Blanc et Noir
by Ansketil
Summary: Lucius has lost both his wife and son. But when he imprisons Ginny and then kills her he feels somehow guilty. So he brings her back using Necromancy... Can a creature who has lost her humanity retrieve his? And Draco... a poltergeist? COMPLETE
1. Prologue

Blanc et Noir  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing, not even some of the ideas. I am being forced to write this story by the little red men all over my computer!  
  
Author's Notes: All right. Thankyou to my best friend Nile Queen who helped me fall in love with Lucius, and who created this story with me when the roof was leaking. (She had to go up into the attic so the attic in Malfoy Manor bears some resemblance to her one!) Thanks to Walt Disney for giving me the 'Beauty & the Beast' start and thanks to The Velvet Ghost for the necromancer idea. Also, special thanks to the two week storm which inspired Grandmother Maud's curse.  
  
Prologue  
  
The rain poured down. The sky was grey and forbidding. Water washed over the marble gargoyles and slid in heavy waterfalls down the elaborate stone gutters. Malfoy Manor hadn't been under siege for several centuries, but the rain gave the onlooker the impression that even the weather loathed the Malfoy family.  
  
The onlooker in question was Arthur Weasley. The patched and faded robes he wore weren't even wet because the rain seemed to disappear a few inches from his head. He was attempting to smile, but was trying too hard, which turned his mouth into a sickly grimace.  
  
Mr. Weasley rubbed his hands together as he waited. It was so typically Malfoy to close even their floo network to intruders. Only a special type of floo powder could get you into Malfoy Manor, and Arthur most certainly didn't have it. Because of this Arthur had to walk all the way from the small coach house fireplace at the edge of the park, apparating was, of course, out of the question. Malfoy Manor, like Hogwarts, had special protection.  
  
Slowly, one of the ancient oak doors swung open. A small, trembling House- Elf stood at the entrance. "W-what does you want with the Master?" Arthur drew himself up to his full height. "I'm here to see Mr. Malfoy on very important Ministry business," he said with a faked, but imposing, self confidence. The House-Elf mumbled something that sounded something like "Jeanna will see," and slammed the door in his face.  
  
From one of the upper windows, grey eyes were watching the scene with interest. Lucius Malfoy sank deeper into the expensive furs covering the window seat and smiled dryly as he watched Arthur stamp in impatience outside. He looked up at the sky and the smile turned into a sneer. As Lucius looked at the sky the weather began to worsen. Rain became hail and the wind increased, whistling eerily.  
  
"M-m-master, a visitor is here on important Ministry business. Shall Jeanna let him in?" Lucius glanced down at the red-haired figure below. Ah yes, he'd forgotten the impertinent Weasel had been promoted. There was a time, Lucius thought, when such trash had been quite rightly restricted to crude menial tasks. "Yes Jeanna, show him to the. Green Drawing Room," the corner of his mouth twitched slightly as he decided the location. Jeanna cringed and ran out.  
  
Lucius lived alone in his splendid house. The only people he had ever let close to him were dead. Narcissa, his beautiful wife, and Draco, his beloved son, had both been killed, as punishment for his failure. But now the Dark Lord was dead also, defeated by a boy not even out of Hogwarts! Lucius himself had only been able to escape imprisonment by donating a considerable amount of money to Cornelius Fudge's private Gringotts vault, but he would never be accepted in polite society again.  
  
Mr. Lucius Malfoy drew himself up to his full height, and it was considerably more imposing than Mr. Weasley's. As he smoothed down his costly velvet cloak he thought about the coming confrontation. He was going to enjoy himself. Even in his new financial situation Mr. Weasley had never seen anything like the Green Drawing Room, Lucius was sure. A pity he'd never see anything after it.  
  
Lucius had a highly developed sense of revenge. 


	2. The Bargain

Blanc et Noir  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing, not even some of the ideas. I am being forced to write this story by the little red men all over my computer!  
  
Author's Notes: Ok, well not much to say really. Lucius and Ginny strike a deal.  
  
The Bargain  
  
Ginny sat at the table alone. Mum was out for the day with Ron and baby Martha, and Dad was out on Ministry business. She stared glumly down at her holiday homework. Dad really should have been back by now. she glanced at the clock, just in time to see her Father's clock hand turn from "At Work" to "Mortal Peril."  
  
Ginny turned white, what was he doing? She knew her Dad kept very quiet about work these days. She was just about to shout when she realised no one was home. Maybe Dad had left some clue about where he was!  
  
Ginny leapt to her feet and ran upstairs to her parents' room. Desperately, she rifled through the dressing table and the wardrobe. There wasn't anything there! She raced back down to the kitchen and searched downstairs, nothing! Out of sheer desperation she went back upstairs and searched her father's room again. Once again, the search was fruitless. Ginny sank down against the door.  
  
Just then, her hand touched a small piece of parchment. Ginny rubbed her eyes and opened the note.  
  
Things to Do- -Drop the Muggle books back to Mr. Granger -Investigate the possible hiding places of McNair -Interrogate Mr. Malfoy about his "old friend" McNair -Review Azkaban security  
  
Dad was going to Malfoy Manor. Ginny had seen what that horrible man could do in her fourth year. She had to help her Dad! Ginny shoved the note in her pocket and reached for her wand. Her bright brown eyes hardened as she walked don the stairs.  
  
Ginny grabbed rather more floo powder than necessary and stepped into the fireplace. "Malfoy Manor!" Ginny shouted, and as the green fire flared Ginny's clock hand joined her father's at "Mortal Peril."  
  
Lucius was enjoying himself. He had long ago removed the crumpled, muggle- loving fool away from the splendour of the Green Drawing Room to the rather less hospitable dungeons. Malfoy Manor had been a medieval castle before it was converted into a modern manor-house, unfortunately, for Arthur Weasley, at least, the stone Keep was still in tact.  
  
The Weasel was crouched and bleeding at his feet. Lucius hadn't even used the Cruciatus Curse as yet. He was savouring the pleasure, inflicting gradually worse spells on his captive. Suddenly a numb feeling shot through his body, someone had set off the wards. another intruder? Fool! He hadn't counted on Mr. Weasley bringing a colleague. but perhaps he could make that work to his advantage.?  
  
Ginny appeared in a small elegant room. Looking out the window she saw the road and several tall cedar trees. There was no one around. All that was in the room were a few Second Empire style chairs (not that Ginny knew that) and a cloak rack. This definitely wasn't Malfoy Manor.  
  
Ginny stepped outside. She stood beside a huge cast iron gate. It had an elegant serpent hinge and "Malfoy" in large cursive lettering over the top. Ginny lifted the heavy hinge and snuck in.  
  
It was sleeting. How could it be sleeting! Outside the weather was bright and sunny, and it was SLEETING over Malfoy Manor! Oddly enough, Ginny wasn't getting wet at all. The blizzard stopped a few inches from her face. Still, it was freezing, and she could hardly see.  
  
Ginny pulled her robes tighter around her and trudged towards a large dark shape she assumed was the actual manor.  
  
The weather surrounding Malfoy Manor, though strange the muggles and other dubious personages, it was quite normal and not, in fact, strange at all. There is a simple explanation. The current owner's grandmother Mrs. Maud Malfoy found her husband, whom she married for money, cheating on her. This, although a traditional thing for Malfoy husbands to do, didn't overly impress her. Her reaction in question could probably be compared to that of a hippogriff when one does not adhere to the proper protocol. Anyway, the upshot was that she cursed the house and the master of said house.  
  
The weather was connected to the moods of the holder of the deeds to Malfoy Manor. Normal was rain, and sleet and hail were angry and snowing was happy. In consequence it was never sunny and snowed even less.  
  
The second part of this curse was that no one except the current Mr. Malfoy would get soaked.  
  
Ginny eventually reached the large oak doors. She tried one, it was open. Ginny slipped inside. and gasped. It was beautiful. Greek gods swirled round the ceiling and below them was an immense diamond chandelier. Marble pillars and mirrored walls made Ginny feel small and scared.  
  
Ginny pulled herself together. She was here to save her father from an ex- Death Eater arsehole. Suddenly a House-Elf appeared. "Nasty girl should not be here!" Ginny glared at the elf. "Where's my father?! Where is he!?" The house-elf quickly drew back, twitching. Ginny saw a large angry welt over one of its eyes. "Nasty girl's father is in the Keep! He should leave us alone!"  
  
The Keep. a dungeon! Oh God, Ginny groaned. "Where is the Keep?" Ginny spat at the house elf. "Down big stairs over there," the elf pointed. As Ginny ran down the stairs the elf smiled maliciously. "Keep is easy to get into, hard to get out!"  
  
Ginny had entered a dark, stone corridor. "Lumos," she muttered, shivering. Eventually Ginny reached a small metal door. Cautiously, she opened it. Wand out, Ginny stepped into the room.  
  
Lucius, on his ninth birthday had received two baby dragons. They were both Hungarian Horntails and extremely vicious. They adored Lucius and ate everyone else. Lucius, not being without wit, even at that age, had called them Phoebus and Demos.  
  
As Ginny entered that door swung shut with a clang. Then she spotted the dragons. Mr. Malfoy's aptly named dragons inspired both sensations in her. She flung herself on the door handle. The door was locked. Two pairs of yellow eyes gleamed and the sounds of growling filled the air.  
  
Ginny was just about to spell the door when it was opened. Lucius Malfoy twirled her wand in his hand. "Well, well, well, Virginia Weasley. I admit I was not expecting someone quite so.ineffectual."  
  
"Where's my father!" Ginny's voice was steady. She wasn't going to give that monster the satisfaction of seeing that she was scared. "Oh, he's as well as he deserves to be, I assure you."  
  
"What have you done with him?!"  
  
"Simply- ah- amused myself. By the way, did you know your precious father screams like a girl?" Lucius brushed some imaginary lint off his spotless velvet cloak.  
  
"Don't you DARE insult my father, you worthless bastard!!" Lucius smirked, the girl really didn't seem to realise how powerless she was. Like a cat, Lucius loved playing with his prey. "Language, my dear, language. but perhaps we can come to some suitable arrangement."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"You in exchange for him, obviously," Lucius strode into the room as he said this, pulling Ginny along after him.  
  
Lucius had long ago realised that the Weasley family's worst weakness was children. They actually seemed to keep every baby that wretched woman conceived, regardless of their financial situation. So what would hurt Arthur Weasley more, his own death, or losing a child? The latter obviously.  
  
".Unless, of course, you'd like to renounce your Gryffindor vows and leave him to die?"  
  
Ginny stopped. She couldn't let her father die! "Anything, just don't kill him!"  
  
Lucius smiled, but the humour didn't reach his icy grey eyes. "Good girl, I knew you'd see sense in the circumstances, however alien it is to your nature."  
  
A memory charm and some healing spells and Arthur Weasley didn't notice the difference. Lucius smirked with satisfaction. He'd locked the girl in an attic and her father wouldn't even remember that afternoon's sport. 


	3. Imprisonment & Release

Blanc et Noir  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing, not even some of the ideas. I am being forced to write this story by the little red men all over my computer!  
  
Author's Notes: Ginny's imprisonment and dramatic release, Draco will be revealed to those who wait. In the mean time- may I present Snookums?  
  
The Imprisonment & Release  
  
Ginny woke up in a damp, cold room. She could feel her spine hurting against the hard floor. Ginny's throat was parched and her stomach was aching. She opened her eyes. It was dark and gloomy. Streaks of light came up through the floorboards, but only enough to make out several boxy like objects and the slanted roof.  
  
Ginny groped around in the attic. She coughed as dust fell across her face. Tentatively she gripped the wall, pulling herself slowly into a standing position. Soon, Ginny's eyes became accustomed to the blackness. There was no door.  
  
Ginny gasped and choked down more dust. She felt the walls carefully, searching for a door. Then, she crouched down on the ground again, looking for a trapdoor. Suddenly, Ginny looked up. "Arrghh!!" There was a giant spider-web strung across the room, just above her head. Ginny couldn't see a spider but it was probably around somewhere.  
  
Lucius sliced his lamb delicately but with considerable force. Stiff as a rod and dressed in silky red dinner-robes, he looked like the archetypal villainous aristocrat. Lucius Malfoy, if he had heard this opinion, would have voiced his displeasure at its generalization.  
  
Indeed, he was a pampered aristocrat, of perhaps unusual nastiness, but that was certainly not everything about him. Lucius was an only child, much like his own Draco. However, unlike Draco, he had always been content with his own company. The only attraction other men had was the fun that could be had in manipulating them.  
  
When he had hit upon the plan of imprisoning Virginia Weasley, he stupidly hadn't thought about what to do with her. He had no previous experience in keeping captives. Should he kill her? Strangely, he didn't want another person's murder on his hands. Arthur Weasley he could kill, certainly, but not his innocent daughter, surely? In any case, not knowing her condition would surely be more harmful to the Weasley family than her death.  
  
But. he didn't want to keep her. He didn't like the feeling of another human in the house anymore, especially one in pain. There was, of course, a perfectly acceptable compromise. leave her to die.  
  
Ginny's throat was screaming for liquid. She was weak and light headed with hunger. She had long ago given up hope that someone would rescue her. She had lost track of time, but vaguely registered that it must have been several days since she remembered waking up here. The tension left her body as she slipped back into unconsciousness.  
  
Snookums was an unusual House-Elf. A by-product of a union between Dobby and Jeanna, he didn't have much to recommend him.  
  
Only the most enthusiastic wizards and witches have ever had the courage to study House-Elf reproduction. I will not burden these pages with a description of the indiscreet, rather unhygienic, process that produces strapping young House-Elves, leaving it to the reader's imagination to imagine the details. In any case, it is safe enough to say that Dobby and Jeanna had some sort of relationship, which produced Snookums. (The father, unfortunately, has the task of naming the offspring and Dobby's dubious taste is evident in the name.)  
  
Snookums was a young House-Elf, having been born sometime after his father was given the sock. He was around thirty centimetres tall and wore a lime green flannel. He had inherited his father's bulging green eyes, which looked as round as saucers when the Master spoke to him.  
  
"Check up on that girl, elf!" Lucius never called Snookums by name, mainly because it was a name that most certainly produced vibrations, of a most unsatisfactory kind. Also, Lucius felt somehow affronted that someone had named anything, even a House-Elf, with such. stupidity.  
  
Now Snookums had inherited more that just Dobby's eyes. He had the art of *interpretation.* For instance, "Check up on that girl," could mean a number of things. It could mean check to see if she was alright, perform a check-up; check to see if she had everything she needed. Wizards don't generally realize how much leeway their orders have. Lucius certainly didn't.  
  
Snookums *did* check up on Ginny. He found an unconscious girl on the dusty floor. Snookums, like most House-Elves, couldn't bear to see wizards or witches on pain, most, that is. There were a few he'd like to see in pain, mainly Lucius.  
  
So he went down to the kitchen and grabbed some left over lamb and caviar, (well Lucius liked it!) and some champagne. Snookums was unfortunately assuming that everyone's thirst was quenched by Lucius's finest bubbly.  
  
Ginny woke up to two BIG green eyes attached to a VERY small body, needless to say, she assumed she was hallucinating. "Mistress must drink! Look, Snookums had brought Master's champagne!" Hurriedly the elf tipped a large quantity of champagne down Ginny's throat.  
  
"Blllaghh!" Ginny spat the alcohol onto the floor. "Who the heck are you?" Ginny's head was spinning. "Snookums, Snookums the House-Elf. Snookums is sorry Mistress does not like best champagne, Snookums will get firewhisky next time."  
  
Ginny stared at the crazy elf. She needed water, WATER, and this idiot was giving her alcohol? "Waterrr.," she managed to rasp. "Mistress wants. water?" Snookums was surprised. His Master *never* drunk water. He preferred some expensive, *the* most expensive, beverage. But Snookums was a most obliging House-Elf. So, with two snaps of his fingers, he was back with some water.  
  
Ginny drank greedily, emptying the crystal glass so that water ran down her face and down her neck as well as into her mouth. When she had drunk enough (the glass refilled itself) she snatched the lamb and began to devour it a lot more rapidly than Lucius did.  
  
When she had eaten her fill Snookums came to take the plate away. He touched the unused cutlery, but did not pick it up. "Snookums will come *back* for the cutlery." Ginny stared. Snookums winked. "Snookums must remember to mend the (wink, wink) *loose bricks,*" and with another ridiculous wink, he was gone.  
  
Lucius lay awake in bed. He had changed into a sumptuous dressing-gown, of maroon silk embroidered with black serpents. It was designer, like everything else Lucius had. It was an authentic Chrestomanci in fact.  
  
Lucius couldn't sleep. His mind was still active even though his eyes were tired. Just then, he heard a noise. It was very soft, but it sounded like. sawing? He must be imagining things. With a sigh Lucius pulled the clinging covers closer.  
  
It was a small hole, but it was enough for Ginny to climb out of. Outside, she could see a frozen lake. It was raining softy. Ginny gripped the crumbling stone tightly. She looked down. She was at the top of a small tower. Luckily she was only three stories up. Maybe she could climb down.?  
  
Lucius woke up; there had been a thud outside. He was sure. Not wanting to part from the delicious warmth provided by his ermine duvet, he gathered it up round his shoulders as he stood up. Then he realized what the thud could have been. Quickly, Lucius rushed to a rather handy mirror and whispered "Show me the girl!"  
  
Ginny had a sore ankle, but nothing major. She'd fallen from the second story but the muddy ground had softened her fall. She saw a gate on the other side of the lake. She took a deep breath then ran as fast as she could across the lake.  
  
Now there is a popular saying about treading on thin ice, if Ginny had remembered this, it would have saved her, literally. All of a sudden, she slipped and the ice gave way beneath her. Screaming, she was plunged into the icy water.  
  
The weather changed. It was cold, now it was *freezing.* It was lightly raining before, now it was a blizzard so fierce that the trees bowed down before it. The lake refroze.  
  
Ginny banged her hands against the ice, desperate for air, but she could not find the opening, it had gone. Ginny fought with the water, which she had been so desperate for earlier, but it was no use. The body of Ginny Weasley froze under the lake.  
  
Lucius was furious, she had escaped! Now she could tell the world of his cruelty! What could he do? Again, he turned to the mirror. "Show me the girl," he repeated. All he could see was a slight shape beneath the ice.  
  
Lucius was horrified; he hadn't even meant to kill her! Well. he had. but not like that! What could he do now? Well, well, well. he could. perhaps there was something he could do after all. 


	4. Noirkarti

Blanc et Noir  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing, not even some of the ideas. I am being forced to write this story by the little red men all over my computer!  
  
Author's Notes: Love is in the air, every sight and every sound. not! In which we find out a bit about Lucius and what he REALLY keeps in that secret room under the drawing room!! Oh, and 10 points to whoever gets the motto. Brush up on your Latin, dudderheads!  
  
Aurora Noctifer- Well, Ginny will take a while to get into character and Lucius will go into OOC very soon.  
  
Nile Queen- Yes I know I'm changing the plot order a little- but I'm saving face for Lucius! Anyway- do you recognise the song? I couldn't very well have what we were actually listening to when we were role-playing! The Phaaaantom of the Operaaaa!  
  
Emmy Hart- Thanks, and err- do you like the waltz?  
  
Noirkarti  
  
The House-Elves brought the frozen body in. The Manor was very still, as if it was holding its breath. The rain was now only a gentle patter on the roof.  
  
Lucius was excited. He had always known that this could be done- but actually doing it? - That was a whole different thing. He flexed his fingers, knowing that the ancient blood ran through his veins. "Put her in the- ah -Drawing Room," Lucius said softly.  
  
Mr. Malfoy swept into the Green Drawing Room, cloak flying. He was not running, but walking as fast as he could. Lucius then seated himself grandly at the piano forte. He then played a short minuet, delicate fingers caressing the keys.  
  
Lucius stood up, dusted himself off, and walked over to the bookcase. He pulled a certain volume entitled 'Into the Unknown, a Ghost's Dictation.' A segment of wall, nowhere near the bookcase, slid noiselessly open.  
  
Lucius walked down a spiral staircase to a room below the drawing room. Over the centuries various Malfoys had added to the secret room so that it now contained so much dark arts paraphernalia that even the House-Elves disliked entering for fear of unseen terrors.  
  
Ginny lay cold on a slab of white marble. Lucius looked down his nose at her. A pity it has to be her, he thought. He removed his gloves and placed them on a shelf. His hands were shaking. He glared at them. Lucius's white hands then moved to hover over the dead girl's chest.  
  
His fingers twisted in strange patterns, lightly skimming over her breast. A strange dark glow soon appeared over the areas touched, forming into an ever spinning circle. Lucius gripped a knife, and pressed it's blade into his left wrist. Wincing, he put it to the cadaver's mouth. An identical cut appeared on the dead girl's right wrist.  
  
All of sudden, Ginny's frozen fingers twitched, startling Lucius. He jerked his hands up. The ice cracked, splintering all over the marble. Like a marionette, Ginny sat up, following his hands. Her eyes fluttered open.  
  
My.I actually did it! Lucius was stunned, not that it showed on his face. His eyes remained as cold as ever.  
  
She opened her eyes. Everything looked milky. Her head was fuzzy. There was a sweet warmth upon her lips. The Creator was standing there. She could see His blood, her blood, radiating from beneath His skin. She reached for Him, wanting to surround herself with His delicious warmth.  
  
Lucius was all of a sudden enveloped in a freezing vice-like grip. He shivered. "Let go," he whispered. She obeyed, she MUST, obey The Creator. "Who am I?" she asked in a husky voice. "You are Noirkarti. You are *my* Noir." She didn't need to be told this, but The Creator seemed to like to tell her who was in control.  
  
Lucius walked slowly over to a bench, not wanting to turn his back on the Noirkarti. He slipped a pair of strange gloves on. They were black leather and covered in old protective runes. Next, Lucius reached for a large gold disk, which was emblazoned with Hellenistic figures.  
  
All of a sudden, Lucius whipped round and pressed the disc into the Noirkarti's bare chest. Her skin melted around it like water. Then the gold disk froze to her chest. Noir screamed. IT WAS BOILING! Lucius smirked. "This is what will happen if you *ever* disobey me," Lucius gently stroked the disk.  
  
Noir couldn't understand. Her Creator, the one who gave her life, had just hurt her. She would always obey Him. Why did he need to flaunt such power?  
  
Noir looked up. She looked into her Creator's icy eyes, which seemed to be neither grey nor blue, but something in between. She looked at His gloves, and was again hurt. She recognised that they were to protect Him from her. She would never hurt Him, so why was He so frightened?  
  
A tall, ghostly woman entered the room. Noir drew back from her. She was a pale, silver colour and was glaring at her. "Go away!" the woman screeched. "We don't need you! HE DOESN'T NEED YOU!" Noir was scared. "No," she said quietly. "He needs me, because He created me, not you!"  
  
Lucius was bewildered. Who was she talking to? "Noir, control yourself," he admonished. "But she started it!" Lucius rolled his eyes, she sounded so childish. "Who started it?" Noir pointed, "The woman over there," she whispered.  
  
Lucius stiffened. Narcissa! He shut his eyes for a moment, remembering his beautiful Narcissa, then, waving his wand, "UMBRA IRE MEARE!" Noir saw the woman fly through the wall. "Is she gone?" The Creator asked. ".s," Noir mumbled.  
  
Lucius left her there to rest. Her body will still be waking up, he thought. It will give me some time to consider my next move. This is what I have missed, Lucius sighed. Playing will people is so fun.  
  
Like most Malfoys, Lucius prided himself on his foresight. Be Prepared, could easily replace the Malfoy motto, 'Per Sanguis, Proelium Sum Victrix,' though perhaps he would not take kindly to sharing such a worthy motto with the Girl Guides.  
  
But, most unfortunately, for Lucius at least, he'd forgotten something rather important. What Noirkarti eat. Now, perhaps a little background knowledge is advisable at this point? Noirkarti are fully reliant on their Master for life, but something extra is needed to keep them from turning into complete wraiths, not a pleasant experience, let me tell you! The problem comes with what that extra special something is; you see unicorn's blood is rather tricky stuff to acquire.  
  
To begin with one must remember that Noirkarti are undead, much like zombies, except that they are almost entirely dependant on their creator, that is, the necromancer who summons their souls back to their body. In this case: Lucius. Noirkarti have rather amazing powers however, as you shall see.  
  
Lucius sat by the fire in his elaborate study thinking. There was only one known colony of unicorns in Britain and it was in a most unfortunate location. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, watched over by that muggle-loving, senile, old fool: Albus Dumbledore and his simple minded pet savage.  
  
Luckily, Noirkarti only need feeding once a week but, as you can see, our dear Mr. Malfoy had got himself in a bit of a fix. It was most out of the ordinary.  
  
Snookums too, was, at that very moment, setting himself up for a fix. The girl was still resting. Snookums had been told to see the she wanted for nothing- except freedom, that is. Snookums touched her to see that she was all right. He drew back suddenly, the girl was freezing! Quickly Snookums performed some handy, or so he thought, House-Elf heating magic.  
  
Now the only thing that can kill a Noirkarti, apart from the death of their creator, is heat. Oh dear, you think, well, you are quite justified in thinking that, or maybe a stronger expletive is in order. In any case, it wasn't exactly the smartest thing to do- but since when were House-Elves known for their marvellous intellect?  
  
Noir moaned it was hot, so hot. She shrieked, calling for her Creator to help, but no one came. She yelled until her voice had gone and still nobody came to help her.  
  
Lucius was looking through his extensive library for Noirkarti dietary alternatives, when Jeanna popped into existence beside him. "The nasty girl is making loud noises, Master. Shall I take care of it?" Lucius raised an eyebrow. "What kind of noises, Jeanna?" The elf apparently didn't notice the edge to the inquisitive tone. "Oh, nasty girl is calling for help, Master. Nothing un-" but Jeanna couldn't finish because Lucius had struck her so hard with his silver-topped cane, before dashing out of the room, that she flew into a bookshelf and a heavy dark arts manual knocked her into the celebrated land of La-La.  
  
When Lucius finally reached the Noirkarti, she was almost dead (again!) He whipped out his wand and performed the necessary cancellation charms, before leaning over her.  
  
When she finally opened her eyes they weren't the bright brown so many people had exclaimed over in her life, but a deep maroon, almost the colour of dried blood. Her skin was pale, not porcelain pale like Lucius, but an unhealthy bluish tone, like she had been swimming in cold water for too long.  
  
"Creatorrr," she moaned. "I knew you would come, you love me." Lucius was stunned. He, love her? What could possibly have given her that idea? He thought it best to humour her, "Yes, I love you," he lied charmingly. Lucius really should have remembered that Noirkarti have the gift of truth.  
  
When Noir heard that HE was lying to her, she was appalled. A sick feeling crept into her gut. He doesn't love me? But He created me! Why can't He love me?! Somewhere, she knew, she had once known love, but every time she tried to remember the disk hurt her. Her Creator hurt her. She had assumed that this was for her benefit but, maybe she was wrong?  
  
Days passed. Lucius got more and more worried about his little problem, but Noir was much better. She was exploring the big manor looking at all the wonderful things. This house is so like The Creator, she thought. Cold and reserved, but perfect in distant splendour.  
  
She had entered the Ball Room. For those unfamiliar with this architectural wonder, let me elaborate. Thirteen neo-classical black marble columns hold up a vast swirling ceiling painted by the famous witch-artist, Enid Puntavolo, who loved rendering snakes in oils, and who died when a subject she was sketching bit her. Full length silver windows gave a spectacular view of the park turned bog.  
  
Noir danced to silent music until she saw an elaborate purple and silver radio in a small alcove. Noir switched it on.  
  
"*This is WWN, Owl time, where you owl it we'll howl it! First up: Katty Niggs has requested 'Slowly Tuning Away,' by Celestina Warbeck, the singing sorceress!*"  
  
"A thousand stars,  
Flaming ever so bright,  
Could never be warmer,  
Than my heart tonight!"  
  
But your eyes are cold and distant,  
And you're slowly turning away,  
And I know that you try to resist me,  
Slowly turning away!"  
  
Lucius walked into the ball room. She was dancing there, dancing, dancing like, like, Narcissa used to. Lucius suddenly had an impulse to join her, to whirl her into oblivion.  
  
Noir felt a sudden glow as The Creator's gloved fingers slipped into hers. Slowly he guided her into a sweeping waltz as the music swelled. It was snowing.  
  
"A thousand questions,  
Your eyes seem to ask,  
Yet your face is a blank,  
Inscrutable mask!  
  
But your eyes are cold and distant,  
And you're slowly turning away,  
And I know that you try to resist me,  
Slowly turning away!  
  
A thousand questions,  
All of them wrong,  
But your eyes are cold and distant,  
Why am I taking so long?  
  
But your eyes are cold and distant,  
And you're slowly turning away,  
And I know that you try to resist me,  
Slowly turning away!"  
  
Lucius was just leaning in to kiss her when Jeanna appeared and shattered the spell. "A Mr. McNair is at the door, Master. Shall Jeanna show him in?" It began to hail. 


	5. Blackmail for Beakfast, Blood for Tea

**Blanc et Noir**

****

**Disclaimer:**

I own nothing, not even some of the ideas. I am being forced to write this story by the little red men all over my computer!

**Author's Notes:**

Err… well I really don't want to give the game away so I'll just stay silent.

Aquarius-sl – Well I'd absolutely love to say I came up with the Noirkarti myself, but I can't… my best friend Nile Queen 1 would kill me! It is original though… we came up with it together and she ordered me to write it out. (She controls the little red men!)

Queen of the Night – Nice name! Is it from '_The Magic Flute' or somewhere else? Well, I converted a little bit of poetry I wrote into Celestina Warbeck's hit song. All your other queries will be answered in this chapter._

Blackmail for Breakfast, Blood for Tea

Lucius's sharp nails dug into Noir's dead flesh, before he flung her away. Noir's head reeled. Pain burst out all over her chest, ripping her sanity asunder. What had she done? The Creator had hurled her aside for no reason! Did she displease him?

Lucius pulled himself away from the creature. What had possessed him to create her? It made it perfectly obvious to anyone what he was. Now he had more problems on his hands than he could count! 

So Mcnair was here, was he? He had escaped from Azkaban, no less. Well, Lucius smiled as he strode out of the room twirling his cane, dear Walden will be in for a little surprise…

Mcnair was stomping his feet outside. As a house-elf showed him to a greenish themed drawing room, he thought about the strange occupant of this fine house. Walden and Lucius, though both pure-blooded Death Eaters, had never come close. The big difference was wealth. Malfoys tended to look down on anyone who couldn't afford designer robes. Mcnair sat down in a Louis XV chair stroking his black moustache. Well, dear Lucius was in for a little surprise…

Noir was crouching on the floor of the ballroom clutching her chest. Tears of ice ran down her cold cheeks. Noir didn't understand… She needed her Creator. Her God… wanted to be near him, to bask in his radiant life. Then, all of a sudden there was a CRACK and Noir was gone.

Lucius's grey eyes stared into Walden's chocolate ones. Two wills battling for dominance. Mcnair looked away. A muscle at the corner of Lucius's mouth twitched in triumph. He lowered himself into a chair before he asked "To what do I owe the- ah – _pleasure _of your company?" Mcnair's lips curled into a scowl. "Malfoy, you will give me what I ask or I will tell certain people compromising information about yourself."

Lucius smiled confidently, but his mind was racing. What information did Mcnair have? "Ah… and what exactly does this _compromising information entail?" Mcnair gave a chuckle. "Nothing much, it's just that I know exactly how you came by those rather nasty scars on your neck, by the way, did that hurt?" _

Grey eyes widened, Mcnair knew! "How exactly did you come by this?" Lucius managed to spit out. "Well if the Dark Lord will leave the door open…" Lucius clenched his teeth, what could he do now?

Just then, there was a CRACK and Noir appeared beside Lucius. Mcnair almost tipped his chair over in surprise. Noir reached for her Creator, stroking his hair. For once, Lucius didn't seem to mind the freezing touch, mainly because he'd just had an idea.

_"What_ _is _that?_" Mcnair gasped. "Oh this," Lucius smirked, "This is a… what is the word? …A __Noirkarti." Mcnair's eyes widened, "But you can't do that, that's illegal! It was outlawed in the fifteenth bloody century!" Lucius raised his eyebrows, "Fourteenth, I think you'll find, and why should that start mattering now, Mcnair? You know, of course, the consequences of making the Master of a Noirkarti angry… _don't you?"__

Noir chose this rather theatrical moment to whisper quietly "If you mean to harm my Creator, for whose blood your soul screams, I will make sure that you may never return to the living world."

Noir's icy hands enclosed Mcnair's jugular. Mcnair shrieked and ripped the stuffing out the expensive chair he was sitting on. "No, please, PLEASE, NOT THAT!" Lucius continued smirking. "Well, perhaps you can still be of some use to me. Provided, of course, you never refer to that- ah – _draining incident between myself and the Dark Lord. Let go of him." Noir released the struggling Death Eater. Mcnair stood up. "Anything, just give me some funds and I'll be out of your hair." The corner of Lucius's mouth twitched again. "Very well… but there is just one little job I have for your highly skilled axe." Mcnair's eyes narrowed, "What could you possibly want me the kill?" Lucius gracefully stood up, gripping his cane, "Do you have any experience with… unicorns?"_

Noir had blood to drink by the next day. Lucius dripped a little of his own blood in too. Noirkarti, Lucius had learned, needed their creator's blood as well as that of unicorns. 

After eating, Noir sat at a widow-seat and stared out at the continual rain, letting her mind wander. Then her maroon eyes were caught by a very slight misty shape outside in the rain. If she looked closely she could make out the lines of a small face. The weird being floated closer. Noir didn't sense any evil in the thing like she had in the harmful wizard and the horrible woman.

_Open the window, please open the widow! _It seemed to say, yet no sound came out of its mouth. Noir reached for the latch, wanting the sad misty thing to be happy. She flung the widow open. A sudden wind made the window clang against the wall and a teenage boy appeared in mid-air above Noir's head. He had a pointed face and wide grey eyes.

"Who are you?" Noir asked. "Who am I? WHO AM I?! What do you bloody think I am… a cabbage? I, unlike you, live here! The question is, what are you doing here, Weasel?" Noir was outraged at the rudeness of the floating boy. "I am Noir, not a weasel, and I live here with my Creator! If you live here why haven't I seen you before?" The boy grinned. "Hmm… So father finally worked up the courage! He's been dying to make one of you for years, s'pose I shouldn't give the game away." 

Noir was shocked. This was The Creator's son? As if in answer to her question he answered "Well I was… not anymore, but don't tell him I'm here or he'll probably conk it via a heart attack!"

Then, as the strange boy turned to leave, Noir asked "Where are you going? You still haven't even told me your name!" A big grin spread over the boy's face. "Draco Malfoy, and I'm off to terrorize house-elves, of course!"

Lucius sat alone in his study. He absentmindedly stared at his manicured nails. Could he really be developing feelings for a girl who repulsed him even when she was alive and therefore why didn't he have the same reaction now she was dead? Faintly, he heard a clanging and screaming coming from the kitchens. House-Elves, could they do nothing right?!

 All of a sudden Lucius was gripped by the desire to go somewhere, to be anywhere but here, to be out of his lonely manor house. His mind searched for a legitimate reason to go somewhere when he hadn't left the house for years. The creatu… girl, he corrected himself, needed suitable clothing. They would go to Diagon Alley this minute. Lucius stood up so quickly that his chair tipped over.

Noir didn't want to go into that fire. She did NOT! But patience had never been a virtue, along with modesty, that Lucius aspired to. "But I'll get burnt!" Lucius clenched his fists. "Stupid girl, this is a _magic fire! Of course you won't get burnt!" Then, without as much as a by you or leave you, Lucius hurled her into the grate, before following her into the green flames._

At first Noir was scared of all the people in the colourful alleyway. She kept close to The Creator, who immediately resolved to buy a cloak with the strongest heating charms available. 

They shopped for a while, and Noir was pleased to note the respect (or fear) her Creator inspired in people. 

Then, as they were coming out of a shop, an odd thing happened. A girl with bushy brown hair, whom Noir had never seen before, ran up to her. "GINNY! Oh we've all been so worried… where have you been?!" Then Lucius saw her. "OBLIVIATE!" He shouted, before disapperating into Knockturn Alley. But he was too late, the damage was done.

_Ginny_, Noir thought. _Virginia… Virginia Weasley! _I am Ginny Weasley!_ Ginny turned to the man who had killed her and saved her, and slapped him so hard that his silver blond hair hit the mud with a thump.   _


	6. Revenge & Reconciliation

**Blanc et Noir**

****

**Disclaimer:**

I own nothing, not even some of the ideas. I am being forced to write this story by the little red men all over my computer!

**Author's Notes:**

Well… what can I say… things get complicated… messy… very messy… NAH! Lucius gets into trouble with a certain red-head.

Queen of the Night- I LOVE Mozart too! Especially the unfinished requiem, by the way, I checked my story- very carefully mind you- and Draco _DOES HAVE GREY EYES!!! _

Aurora Noctifer- He, he… Oh you'll see!

Revenge and Reconciliation

Lucius gasped, the creature had _struck him! _He stood up and straightened his clothes, but his cold eyes never left her eyes. He was fuming. How _dare_ this insignificant creature strike him, a Malfoy!

Ginny was in shock. She remembered all the terrible things this man had done, he was a Death Eater. He tortured muggles for fun, for heavens sake! But… she felt this incredible pull towards him… as if he was a terrible black hole dragging her in. 

Lucius really needed to vent his anger. He wrenched his gloves on and grabbed Ginny's wrist, before dragging her towards the nearest floo grate. 

Ginny fought a battle with herself. Her mind urged her to run from this cruel man, but somehow she couldn't seem to defy him.    

Finally, Lucius threw her onto the cold marble floor and pain filled her unused lungs. "How _dare _you strike me like that? You stunted idiot!"

Ginny didn't know what she felt anymore. All she could do was suffer silently. She _wouldn't _give him the satisfaction of tears! _She wouldn't! _But icy tears spilled out despite everything.

Lucius stared at the creature. As he stared he was filled with self-righteous-indignation. This animal deserved her punishment. She had dared to strike him! An insatiable appetite for violence gripped his mind. His body was suddenly rigid as he advanced towards the heartbroken girl at his feet…

Suddenly the pain ceased. Ginny watched, as if in slow motion, as, like a thoroughbred warhorse shot down in battle, the proud Lucius Malfoy toppled to the floor beside her.

It felt as though a brick wall had slammed into his chest, he flailed around desperately, gasping for breath. He tried to force himself to yell but no sounds came out of his foaming mouth. 

Ginny stood up. She stood very still, watching him mutely.

 Lucius crawled towards her, his eyes pleading for help, but Ginny stood still. She stared at one of his hands; as she couldn't bear watching his screaming grey eyes. The pale, slender fingers fell at his side, limp.

She stared at the prone man for a long time. His silverly blond hair spread about him like a halo and on that marble floor he seemed like a fallen angel. Ginny couldn't seem to move. She was transfixed by the sight of him lying there in such useless splendour. 

Slowly, her footsteps echoing on the marble floor, Ginny walked towards him. With unnatural strength she scooped the limp figure into her arms. She could feel his beating heart. Just holding him gave her such immense pleasure. She was touching her life, his warm glow spread all over her body.

She loved him. It was that simple. She loved him for giving her this incredible gift, the gift of life. It didn't who he was or what he had done, all that mattered was that _HE _was her Creator and that whatever his motives, she was bound to him by her very existence. 

Lucius remembered…

_"Do you have any idea of how much you have cost me, Lucius?!" _

_"But father, please understand… It was a mistake, a horrible mistake!"_

_Augustus Malfoy advanced towards his terrified son. "I just might have to PUNISH you!" Lucius fell to his knees. "Please father, I'm eighteen, I…" Augustus grinned horribly. "You remember the last time I punished you, don't you?" Lucius nodded, hot tears welling up from the core of his being. _

_Augustus reached for his cane. Some wizards prefer spells, but Lucius knew that his father loved the personal satisfaction caning gave him. He looked fearfully at the cane. It was a family heirloom. The fangs on the silver snake drove into your flesh._

_Augustus grabbed his only son, pulling up his velvet robes so his naked backside was exposed. He twirled the cane before… SMACK! "You will never embarrass me again!" SMACK! "You will remember who you are!" SMACK! "Who are you?" SMACK! Lucius didn't speak. "WHO ARE YOU?!" SMACK!  SMACK! "Lucius Malfoy," Lucius sobbed softly. "Correct!" SMACK! "As MY SON you will, never, NEVER, disgrace yourself like that again!" SMACK! "Is that understood?!" Lucius forced words from his lips. "Yes, father…"_

_All of a sudden, something strange happened. His father suddenly went rigid, and collapsed, foaming at the mouth. _

_Lucius stood silently, watching his father's suffering with immense satisfaction. "Your turn, father," he said softly. His father spoke one word. "Lucius…" before he died._

_Lucius took the bloody cane from his father's dead hands. Gripping it tightly, he brought the cane swishing down onto his father's corpse. He hacked away at his father's dead body, relieving his own pain. Lucius hacked and hacked and hacked…until his face and hands were covered with blood…_

Ginny… no… Noir, for she had begun to accept her new identity, laid her Creator down on His ermine covers. He was hot and trembling, his normally pallid face pink with exhaustion. Noir called for the house-elves. "Jeanna! Snookums! Anyone! Please help me! The master is dying!" Then she realized what this meant for her. She would die too. 

Jeanna and a crowd of house-elves suddenly appeared. They hurried to their master. "Jeanna will call Healer Peake!" With that the little elf disappeared. 

Noir stared at her Creator and Destroyer, willing Him to live. 

A few seconds later there was a _crack _and a short, plump man with curly grey hair apparated beside the ornate bed. "Oh dear! Oh dear, dear, drear, dear!" Noir stared at him. "Is that all you can say?" She asked, wondering why this clearly incompetent man was in charge of her Creator's health.

"Well- erm… Yes, well, of course… Mr, Malfoy yes… Well unfortunately…"

Lucius tried to open his eyes. He could hear a distant murmuring. He forced his eyelids to open. He could make out colourful shapes and there was a freezing icy thing locked onto his wrist. He pulled his hand away.

"Ah, sir, you're awake! Well, I must say, you had us quite worried there! Why, your poor father…" Lucius sat up with a start. "_I know about my father, you idiot! What I want to know is what the hell will happen to me!?" Healer Peake jumped back. "Well it's hereditary, you see? I can't do anything except give you protection wards."  _

Lucius slumped back onto the pillows. "What is wrong with me? What causes these seizures?" The Healer shuffled his feet uncomfortably. "Well, Mr. Malfoy it's ah… ah… caused by… you see…" Lucius's patience had run out. "Say it!" The Healer coughed. "Inbreeding," Lucius's eye's widened. _"What?" He breathed quietly. _

"Because your family's magical genes are exhausted. It leaves you extremely, well, susceptible to magical illnesses." Lucius was astonished. "But why _now?" _The Healer shivered. "It's induced by all extreme conditions and usually it becomes apparent around middle-age, when your defences are weakened anyway."

Noir spoke up. "What does this mean for his normal life?" Pearson looked scared at giving orders to a Malfoy. "Well… you can't go into any extremes. No running, anything like that, keep warm, that sort of thing."

Noir looked fiercely at her Creator. "Right, you may go," 

"But…"

"You can GO!"

"But…" Noir whipped round and her hands of ice gripped the Healer's fat neck. "Leave!" Noir yelled. The Healer disapparated so fast that Noir fell forwards. 

Noir looked into her Creator's grey eyes. They were no longer cold. It was as if someone had torn a mask from his face. His eyes were watery and despairing. She sat down beside him. She took his wand from him. Lucius made no sound. _"Carlor fur," _she whispered a heating charm. Then she wrapped the ermine around her Creator.

Lucius snuggled into the heat. Noir held him tightly through the furs. She stroked his long hair. Lucius felt her touch and realized how long it was since he'd been touched like that. Her strokes seemed to warm him even more than the ermine which allowed them to touch.

They stayed like that for a long time. Then Lucius turned and reached down the front of Noir's robes. He removed the golden disc. "I release you," he whispered. Noir looked at him. "You will never release me, only death can do that. But you have removed my suffering." She let go of him and stood up. A pale hand gripped her cold skin. "Don't leave me," Noir looked down at him. "I never will."

An owl made it through the white downpour. It tapped on Noir's window. Noir glanced at the sleeping Lucius before, with unnatural speed, yanking the window open and the letter off the owl. She opened it.

_HOGWARTS__SCHOOL__ OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Miss Weasley, _

_We look forward to seeing you again this year. All students will take the Hogwarts Express, as usual, from Platform 9 and ¾, Kings Cross at 9 o' clock on September the 1st._

_Please find enclosed list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Sixth year students will require:_

_'The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Six' by Miranda Goshawk_

_'The Advanced Guide to Transfiguration' by Emeric Switch_

_'The Compendium of Complicated Potions' by Odin Umptious_

_'A Guide to Practical Defensive Spells' by __Baden__ Ignavus_

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

Noir looked out at the beautiful snow. Would she really have to leave?

That night it snowed so heavily that the house-elves couldn't go outside, due to the fact that the snow drift was higher than their heads. 

Down in the kitchens a poltergeist shed a quiet tear.


	7. Quite Without Words!

**Blanc et Noir**

****

**Disclaimer:**

I own nothing, not even some of the ideas. I am being forced to write this story by the little red men all over my computer!

**Author's Notes:**

Proof that Ginny is Molly's daughter! PROOF I SAY!!

Oh, this chapter is dedicated to The Queen of the Night who loves Mozart and perhaps feels a bit like me and Lucius about a certain type of music?

Postscript- I originally just put in the chapter title before I wrote it because I thought I'd leave naming the chapter till I'd actually written the chap, but, as you will see, it fits Lucius perfectly!

Queen of the Night- Oh, that's such a hard one! Umm… I'd say… either _'The Magic Flute' or __'The Marriage of Figaro' but that's just because you made me chose. I went to see _'TMOF' _for my birthday! Mum got us front seats on the side!! Soooo cool!_

Aurora Noctifer- Well it's easy for Noir at the moment. She isn't living Ginny's life with her family… She hasn't really come to grips with her problems yet.

Willow- No, I haven't read that actually. (…but I will!) I just… sort of see Lucius as abused. From stuff I've seen and read I've often noticed that "noble/rich" boys who were maltreated by their fathers often end up exactly like them. (Please excuse the mumblings of a half-deranged 15 year-old girl!!)

Quite Without Words!

The sun was just rising over the woods. The light misty rain fogged up the widows so the Lucius could only just see the soft glow of the sunrise. 

He pulled the ermine tighter around him and brushed his blond hair out of his eyes. Then he remembered what had happed the previous day. Lucius scrunched the covers up and threw them across the room. A cold, leaden feeling enveloped him.

Restraint. Always restraint. That was what his late father had tried to teach him: restraint. But Lucius had never been able to restrain himself, from anything. Now… He felt imprisoned, in his own house! He felt like the Trojans must have, when the Greeks leapt out of their wooden horse, despite their impregnable walls. He felt… naked, without his comfortable barriers.

He slipped out of bed. Wrapping a warm velvet dressing-gown around his shoulders, Lucius scattered floo-powder into his grate and reappeared in the Green Drawing Room. 

Lucius seated himself at the piano. But if you looked closely, it wasn't actually a piano after all, or if it was, it was a very strange piano. The keys were oddly shaped and had odd symbols carved into them. From inside the casing a strange bubbling noise could be heard.

Then he began to play. It was a sound of pain, as if the piano were the one who was hurt. Strange scales and melodies floated into the air all of them fitting into a beautiful sorrow.

For wizard music is far more potent than the muggle variety. It is far more formal and sophisticated than ours, but it has a pure lucidity of its own. At least, in Lucius's opinion, _Classical _wizard music did. The god-forsaken sounds that modern wizard's liked was simply awful. They were obviously influenced by muggle music; mudbloods had a lot to answer for!

As Lucius played he was again reminded of his father…

_"Now, Lucius, what's this I hear about you taking a useless subject like symphonistry?" Augustus Malfoy said as he looked over the top of the 'Daily Prophet'. "Well, father," Lucius began timidly, "Since those private lessons I've become really good at the piano and, I thought, maybe…"_

_"Maybe, what?" His father's voice had a threatening edge to it. "Maybe, I'm good enough to… to become a professional pianist. I'm really good and-"_

_"WHAT!?" His father's face flushed bright pink. "I will NOT have MY son earning his living by playing tunes like a common peasant!"_

_Lucius was aghast. Music was his life! It was how he coped with life. How could his father take that away? "But father, I mean, proper, you know, virtuoso pianists, they get played a lot of money and-"_

_"It's not the money that matters! Do you know what people will SAY, you stupid boy! They'll say, look at that! A MALFOY EARNING HIS LIVING from PLAYING IDIOTIC MUSIC! Patronise poor musicians if you love the stuff so much. But I will not have my ONLY SON disgracing the FAMILY NAME by exhibiting his mediocre talents on a KEYBOARD!"_

Lucius shuddered, even now, with anger at the memory of his father. He hoped that Draco, had he lived, wouldn't regard him with so much enmity. 

Lucius, as he stroked the keys, was conscious of the fact that, because he had been forbidden to study symphonistry, his playing had never reached the standard he knew it could've reached.

A cold hand touched his shoulder lightly. "Creator… this letter came for me last night. I… I would like… even though… I would like to go."

Lucius whipped round, snatching the letter out of her hand "What did you say? Go? So soon after we have made our peace? Leave me, when I have just been through a horrifying ordeal?! It's quite impossible! Anyway it would be perfectly obvious that you were a…" Lucius gasped for air. Not again!

Noir caught her Creator before he fell off the piano stool. She snapped her fingers and the heating-spelled ermine cover appeared and wrapped itself snugly around Lucius. Noir wrapped her freezing arms around him.

"You _must _not tire yourself like that! Remember what that fat man said? Now, I've been thinking this through…" she said sternly, fiddling with his long hair, "… and I have to face Ginny. She is -was- me and though I remember her, I still need to sort this out in my mind."

Lucius was incensed. This girl was his slave! She was giving _him orders! He tried to speak but something was constraining his throat painfully. What irony! My illustrious ancestry responsible for this dammed weakness!_

"What time is it?" Noir asked. "Six o'clock? It must be freezing for a mortal! You mustn't get up this early! In the future you mustn't get up anytime before ten and you're not even wearing slippers!"

Lucius couldn't believe what he was hearing. He cursed himself for not having sufficient strength to reprimand her for her appalling impertinence. 

She easily scooped him up it her arms. It was like some obscene dream. A thin, small, delicate girl carrying a tall, exquisitely dressed, middle-aged man wrapped in blankets! But she did. 

She carried him back up to the master bedroom and deposited him back onto his bed. He was quite helpless against her. "Now you _stay there and rest! We'll go shopping at one, for my books. It the meantime you really have to regain your strength," Noir leaned forward and brushed her cold lips against Lucius's dry ones. His eyes widened, suddenly he desperately wanted her._

Noir smiled and walked out. Lucius was left staring at the door in stupefaction.

Both his breakfast and lunch were brought to him in bed. The house-elves smiled shyly, knowing that their master, usually so cruel, was quite incapacitated and unable to say or do a thing. 

Jeanna came in to help Lucius dress. He had, by then, regained his voice, but was too weak to protest to anything. Jeanna dressed him silently, Snookums nervously helping her.

Lucius had never before needed to actually use his cane as a walking aid. He couldn't believe there was no magical cure for his weakness! There were thousands of spells to cure this sort of thing!

He was just about to walk out the door when Jeanna snatched at his cloak. "Mistress says that Jeanna must make sure that master is dressed warm!" Lucius turned slowly round, breathing heavily. "How _dare she order my house-elves to…!?" Jeanna interrupted the __nerve of that elf! Lucius thought. _

"Jeanna has orders! Mistress only wants to help and so does Jeanna!" She snapped her fingers and Lucius was wearing his prized white tiger pelt and his thick dragon leather Noirkarti gloves as well as his Italian suede boots.   

Lucius was really getting angry now. If fact, he had inherited his temper from Grandmother Maud. 

Then her saw her. She was wearing one of Narcissa's old robes. It was the colour of a dark red wine and it made Lucius see her in a new light. Then she spoilt the effect by rushing over to him and squeezing the air out of his already weak lungs.

"Oh Creator, I'm so sorry! I'm just so worried about you, with your condition. you're not immortal like me. Mortals are so delicate," Lucius stiffened. "Noir, I would be perfectly fine if you let go of me. This is most uncomfortable."

Noir smiled, "Of course, shall we go? I'm not afraid of the fire now," Lucius nodded and Noir gripped his gloved hand and flung the floo powder into the grate. "Diagon Alley!" Noir spoke clearly. 

Lucius pulled his hood low over his brow. He didn't want anyone to see him like this.

They bought the books and Lucius bought Noir a new broom and better quality Hogwarts robes. 

Noir couldn't help grinning. Her Creator was being so kind, she wished he would always be like this, but she knew she just had to enjoy it while it lasted.

A few days later Lucius, in his thick furs, and Noir stood on the platform. Noir enveloped her Creator in another bone-crushing hug. "I'll miss you so much! Promise me you'll send Aquila everyday with letters!

Lucius looked down at his little creation and, for the second time, his eyes changed. For a split second they seemed to smile back. Then the mask flicked on again. "It was your choice," he said coldly.  

Miles away, a unicorn lay dead. A huge man looked down at it ruefully. "I jus' don' know what's been at em' Headmaster. Somethin's gotta be done."

"I know Hagrid," Albus Dumbledore smiled apologetically. "But I don't know the answer either. We'll wait until they grow careless… and then," the old man's eyes seemed to radiate power, "Then we'll make them pay for this suffering."   


	8. Blood, Blood, Glorious Blood!

****

Blanc et Noir

Disclaimer:

I own nothing, not even some of the ideas. I am being forced to write this story by the little red men all over my computer!

****

Author's Notes:

Not much Lucius in this chapter. Sorry alright- SORRY! - But, sadly it needs to be written this way. In fact it's his absence that's the point- so no complaining! I'm away at the moment so I can't cross-check anything with the books, so allow for small mistakes which I shall correct when I get home- probably sometime next week. This chap is dedicated to Nana Rae, who is - very kindly - letting me use her computer.

Reviewers- Thankyou for your wise pearls of judgemental wisdom, please continue showing me how much you like my story, I'm terribly vain.

Blood, Blood, Glorious Blood!

Noir stood alone in the middle of the busy platform. Mortals bustled and shoved around her, getting on the scarlet train and saying their farewells. 

There was no warmth. For the first time in her un-life Noir actually felt dead. She kept her head down and her hood up as she climbed onto the train, easily managing her huge trunk.

Noir didn't want to meet any of Ginny's friends, or worse, her family. There would be questions she just couldn't face answering right now. So Noir went right to the back of the train and closed the door behind her.

Suddenly she heard a girl with a shrill voice shouting in the corridor. "Zabini, can't you just leave me alone! I don't know why you like harassing me…. you, y-you Philistine!" Then a boy laughed. "Whatever McKinnon, what the hell's a philathing anyway?" 

A fair-haired girl stomped into the room. Her green eyes were wet and flashing and her blond hair was starting to come out of its neat bun. "Hi, Weasley, isn't it?" Noir didn't say anything, but nodded quietly. The girl apparently took this for an invitation and plonked herself angrily down opposite Noir.

"That Zabini is such a git! Honestly, you'd think he was Malfoy's understudy!" Noir remembered the strange boy she'd met. Oh yes! Now she remembered! Draco had gone here too. She vaguely remembered something about a white ferret and flying bogeys. 

"Oh, yeah," Noir agreed meekly. "Anyway, I can't believe he didn't know what _Philistine _meant. Oh, I'm Emily McKinnon, by the way. Sorry, caught me at a bad moment here!" Noir was trying furiously to remember what Philistine did actually mean when Emily spoke again. 

"I just don't know why he has it in for me, you know? About the only thing I can think of is the fact that I'm a Gryffindor and there're far more offensive Gryffindors than me around." Noir smiled shyly. "Maybe he likes you," she said. "Oh, don't be ridiculous!" Emily said quickly, her cheeks flushing. "Anyways, it's bad politics to go out with Slytherins, even if you're a pureblood," she added with pride.

Noir was trying to remember if she'd ever met this girl before. "Umm… do I know you?" Noir asked hesitantly. Emily looked down. "Yeah, I'm in your dorm but, I mean, you guys never, I mean, I'm quite quiet usually." Noir could see the girl was embarrassed, so she tried for a joke. "You're _that _quiet? What are you, part chameleon?" 

Apparently, Emily didn't think it was funny. "Yeah," she said angrily, tears coming into her eyes again. "Yeah, I'm part chameleon all right! Nobody ever even notices!" Noir felt really bad. Obviously this girl wasn't popular. "I'm sorry," she said "I didn't mean it that way."

"Okay, can we just talk?" Emily asked. So they talked. They talked about everything that wasn't important. Every single bit of small talk they could think of was forced out of their mouths. Noir didn't tell Emily about her un-life and Emily didn't say anything about her own life.

Emily was just telling Noir about how the weather looked grey when the lunch-lady knocked on the door. "Want any food, girls?" Noir felt like retching. The mortal food smelt disgusting! It was sick! Noir's pale hands quickly covered her mouth.

Emily didn't seem to notice her friend's discomfort. "Yep sure, I'll have two pasties and," she turned to Noir "want anything Ginny?" Noir, trying very hard not to retch, shook her head quickly. "Okay, just them then." Emily paid for her food, and then sat back down, munching loudly.

Noir could hear every crunch, every chew, and every single disgusting sound Emily made. It was horrible, really horrible. "You sure you're not hungry?" Emily managed, between mouthfuls. "Yes, quite sure," said Noir firmly, eyeing the second pasty with disgust.

After both girls had changed into their Hogwarts robes, not without embarrassment, they began to talk, hesitantly, about their families. "Well," Emily began, "Me mum an' dad were killed by You-Know-Oo and I've grown up with my Granduncle Bertram McCormack, who lives in Edinburgh. He's a nice old guy but you don't want to live with him if you take me meaning. What about you? Someone told me you've got a wee sister now." Noir was stuck; she didn't know what to say. "Umm, well…" she began nervously… Then, as if it had a mind of it's own, the whole story tumbled out of her mouth before she could do anything to stop it. The one detail Noir managed to keep secret was the identity of her Creator.

Emily stared. "So, so you're a Noirkarti, then?" Noir nodded her head, staring mutely at the floor. "Och, wow! I've studied you! I mean… like we're a Necromantic family! Well, used to be anyhow. I can still do White Necromancy, but it's not the same, if you catch my drift."

Noir just gaped. "I don't know what you mean," she said, completely out of her depth. "Och, fancy you not knowing, but I suppose if your Creator didn't tell you, I've got to." Noir simply stared at her newfound friend. 

"Well, only purebloods can be black necromancers because the gift passes through the male line all the way back to ancient Rome, which is where wizarding society really started. Not that _all _purebloods are necromancers, mind you, just a few. White necromancy passes through the female line and it happens when a black necromancer's wife doesn't give birth to any sons, but daughters. Then the gift transfers to the female line. You gettin' this?" Noir nodded again. Emily brushed some loose strands of blond hair out of her eyes before continuing.

"White necromancers aren't nearly as powerful as black ones, but the powers they use are much nicer. Black ones can bring people back from the dead but its not very nice, no offence!" Emily added hurriedly. "White ones can only heal up to a certain point, but they don't have any of the… qualities that black ones do, so they don't get… well, you know."

Emily looked uncomfortable. Noir could tell Emily thought she'd said enough, but Noir had to hear everything. "Tell me," she said quietly. "Tell me what happens to black necromancers that doesn't happen to white ones!" Emily shuffled her feet and muttered quietly, "They don't get hunted." A shiver went don't Noir's spine. "What do you mean _"Hunted"_?" She asked in a dangerous tone.

Meanwhile, far away, there was a loud rapping on the door. "Malfoy!" A harsh voice shrieked, almost drowned out by the howling and rattling of the wind and the lashing of the rain outside. "Malfoy, MALFOY! Open the door!" The terrible voice had progressed to a low wail. "I'm dying, you bastard!"

In the main bedroom Jeanna turned fearfully to her master. "S-shall Jeanna let the man in, master?" Lucius lazily opened one eye. "Oh, I should say so, Jeanna. After all, he sounds like he won't impinge on my hospitality for very long."

Lucius was sitting up in bed propped up by heavily embroidered cushions. His long, silvery, blond hair was loose, spread out on the pillows and blankets. His pointed face was very pale, despite the pink blotches on his cheeks, and his eyes were closed. The only hangings on his four-poster bed that weren't drawn were the ones at the end of the bed, facing the door. The curtains were drawn too, so that the only light in the room came from the thin steak of light reaching out into the darkness from the partially open door. 

Jeanna swung the door open, bathing the room in light. Lucius's eyes shot open. "Mr. M-m-Mcnair, to see y-you, M-master," the elf's voice shook. A man stepped into the room. Mcnair had changed so much that he was hardly recognisable. His hair was tangled and stuck to his face with his own blood, his bloody clothes were in tatters and sizable chunks of his robes were missing. He was covered with reddish muck and a thick silver substance dripped from his calloused hands. 

"They put up some kind of warding," he said weakly, his knees hitting the ornate carpet with a thump. "I couldn't do anything but run." Lucius stared at him, his cold grey eyes unyielding. "Please, Lucius! I know what you are, help me!"

Emily continued, a sad smile on her lips. "Well, for their b-blood. That's why my parents were killed by You-Know-Who, because my father was a necromancer and their blood gives eternal life. My mother died defending him. I was sent to Granduncle's when he found out what my father was." Emily's voice was shaking slightly.

Lucius just looked at the dying man, no pity in his eyes. Then an idea came to him, an idea of wanton cruelty. It was an idea so despicable that Lucius shuddered with pleasure. "Very well Walden, come here," Lucius whispered. Mcnair whimpered softly before collapsing on the bed beside Lucius, his fingers staining the covers with silver.

Lucius snatched his wand from the bedside table. _"Sanguis statim," _Lucius muttered, opening the gash in his left wrist with his wand. Mcnair's dark eyes looked mad with hunger at the sight of the red fluid dripping from Lucius's wrist. He crawled up the bed towards Lucius. He seized Lucius's left hand and began to suck and, as he did so, he began to heal. The blood on his face disappeared and his strength began to return. 

Lucius was disgusted with having Walden's filthy chops brushing against his porcelain skin. "That's enough," he said firmly. Mcnair kept sucking. "That's enough!" Lucius snarled and yanked his wrist away from the ex-executioner's mouth. 

On the Hogwarts Express, two girls were shaking. "So," Noir said at last, "my Creator's in danger?" Emily looked even sadder. "Yes, black necromancers are always in danger. That's why there are so few left now. Most of them were hunted down and killed ages ago, long before You-Know-Who. Then there's the hair, of course." Noir was puzzled. "The hair?"

"Oh, yeah, didn't I tell you? Necromancer, well black necromancer, hair makes the most powerful wand cores ever. Mr. Ollivander would probably pay millions of galleons to get his hands on one strand." Noir couldn't resist smiling. She remembered her Creator looking into the mirror and casting spells to make sure his silvery locks wouldn't come out of place.

Emily frowned. "What's so funny?" Noir grinned. "Oh, nothing much, it's just funny the way that some people act."

Lucius looked down at the smiling Mcnair. "And how did that taste, Walden?" He asked politely. "Fucking marvellous, Lucius. Fucking marvellous. Mcnair's dark eyes were full of joy and hope for his future. "Oh, how nice," Lucius said, his politeness infallible. Mcnair looked up at the necromancer. "A pity," Lucius continued, his politeness truly terrifying, "that it's the last thing you'll ever taste, isn't it?"

Mcnair started, pulling away from Lucius. Lucius didn't give him time to run. "_Crucio," _Lucius spat, watching Mcnair writhe in pain. 

Then, just as suddenly as it began, the pain stopped. Walden looked into Lucius's eyes, pleading... "_Avada Kedavra," _and it was over.

Noir and Emily stepped off the train and out onto the platform. The sky was a dark greyish purple and the air was filled with that sense of electricity that always preludes a storm. The wind rustled the robes of the students as they all hurried over to the carriages, expecting it to pour down any minute. Noir's stomach suddenly tightened. She didn't want to be seen! She didn't want to face Ginny, she couldn't! 

Emily turned to Ginny, she was gone! Emily looked around for her friend in the crush of students. Several Seventh Year Slytherins elbowed past her. "No friends then, McKinnon?" a nasty voice said from behind her. Emily whipped round. "Go away, Zabini. I can't be bothered with you right now." The tall Indian boy sneered. "Why should I, McKinnon?"

"Leave her alone," an icy voice said out of thin air. Emily turned to the sound of Ginny's voice and Blaise looked around in bewilderment. "Who's that?" He asked, a slight tremor in his voice indicating he was scared. Emily smiled; Ginny must have an invisibility cloak! "Oh, that?" Emily said nonchalantly, "That's just my invisible Ice Demon."

Zabini blanched. "Y-y-your what?" The cool voice spoke again, in a slightly theatrical tone that reminded Emily of Professor Trelawney. "If you harm my friend Emily ever again I shall freeze your bones so that you stay like a statue forever!" As she said this Noir reached an ice-cold hand down the back of Blaise Zabini's neck.

Emily laughed as the lanky Slytherin squealed like a girl and jumped into a carriage with his friends, muttering something about ice demons. Emily climbed up into one herself and wasn't surprised when the door opened by itself and an invisible something sat down with a thump.

Noir stayed invisible all through the feast, even though some of the ghosts kept giving her odd looks. She didn't need to eat so she just sat down beside Emily, who announced, to doubtful response, that she was saving the seat for a friend, which she was, in a manner of speaking.

Noir kept glancing down the Gryffindor table at Ginny's older brother Ron and his friends, on of who was the bushy haired girl, Hermione, whom Noir had met in Diagon Alley.

All of a sudden, an eagle owl swooped into the great hall. Someone at the Slytherin table said, "Isn't that Draco's owl?" It landed in front of Emily, who, noticing who the letter was addressed to, took the letter off the owl and, blushing, patted the owl on the head. It snatched up the roast chicken wing she'd been eating and flew off.

"That's Aquila," a voice beside Emily whispered. "Open the note so I can see it." Emily opened the letter under the table, carefully, so no one but her and Noir could see its contents.

__

My dear Noir,

A most unfortunate event has occurred. The axe-man has died trying to obtain your silvery sustenance. I cannot possibly obtain the essentials so the task falls to you, and I may say that you are most ideally located for the job.

Much affection, 

Faith 

Faith? Noir shook her head, she didn't have much.


	9. The Fairest of All was the Unicorn!

****

Blanc et Noir

Disclaimer:

I own nothing, not even some of the ideas. I am being forced to write this story by the little red men all over my computer!

****

Author's Notes:

Hunting unicorns! (Evil grin) Even less Lucius then last time I'm afraid- but his entrance at the end is worth it. What kind of party do you think Lucius means? Not the cucumber sandwich sort! Now I still can't crosscheck with the books so if anything is spelt wrong I will see to it when I get home. I'll probably get the description of unicorns wrong too- so just be kind until then! (Monday at the latest)

PS: This is one of my longest chapters! Hurrah!

The Queen of the Night- The Failed Prank: No, really, I liked it! I did!

"The Fairest of All was the Unicorn!"

Noir walked down the stone corridors. The light shining through the castle windows bathed the walls in soft moonlight. Her footsteps echoed quietly on the cold floor. The Noirkarti gift of invisibility really had come in useful this evening. Nobody except Emily appeared to have noticed her presence, their eyes just seemed to slide around her, as if they were wilfully ignoring her in their subconscious.

She'd told Emily she'd needed to reply immediately. It was half true. Noir really wanted to talk to her Creator again, even just owling him, she needed the reassurance that he was still there, that he hadn't forgotten about her, that her hadn't made another… Noir closed her eyes. He was her life, literally, but he meant so much more to her than that. She couldn't bare it if he had simply gone and… No! She wouldn't even think of the possibility!

While Noir thought, her feet had taken her to the owlery. Most of the owls had gone of hunting or were delivering mail, it was near morning after all. After her initial fatigue, Noir had found that she didn't need sleep. Her body just kept running, replenished by other things…

She looked down at the letter she'd written. She sighed, looking at her messy handwriting and thinking of her Creator's elegant script.

Dear Faith,

Why that name? It doesn't seem very like you. Maybe something less cheery? Nah, joking, it suits you. What happened to the axe-man, why did he die? How the hell am I supposed to kill a unicorn?! 

Are you all right, have you been resting? I can't stop thinking about you. Guess what? I made a friend! Her name's Emily McKinnon and she's really nice. She said her family used to be black necromancers too.

Send the mail back with this owl, Aquila is too obvious. I can't wait to hear from you. 

All my heart,

Noir 

Looking down at the parchment, Noir thought she sounded childish and silly. Her letter said too much and too little. Could she get nothing right? Oh, well. It said what she had to say. 

Noir called to an odd looking brown, speckled owl. It flew gracefully over to her, but kept a safe distance away. "Look you stupid bird," Noir said, annoyed, "I'm not going to hurt you!" The owl didn't look convinced. Noir looked pleadingly at it. Finally, the speckled owl conceded to inch closer and stick out its right talon for the message.

"You take this to _Lucius Malfoy_, Ok?" Noir said strictly. The owl hooted and ruffled it's feathers as if to say, "you didn't need to tall me that," before flying off into the light blue sky, which was starting to show the first tell-tale signs of morning. Noir watched the speckled owl until it disappeared into the dawn, before slipping away, back into the gloom of the castle.

Emily smiled at her friend as she brushed her hair. "You coming down to breakfast or will I see you in Herbology?" Noir grinned. "I'm coming down to breakfast, Em, but you won't see me in Herbology!" Emily looked at the girl only she could see. "Why?" she asked, perplexed. "Because, I'm going to stay invisible from now on and it'll look weird if you keep glancing at a spot in the wall," Noir explained. "OH!" Emily blushed. "Sorry, didn't think!" Noir chuckled. "Good, keep on not thinking, you're making me sound smart!"

Sitting next to Emily at breakfast, Noir waited anxiously for the mail, would it never come? But just when she was sure the owls would never arrive, there was a flurry of wings and the post was carried in by at least a hundred owls, swooping down to deliver the post. 

The speckled brown owl dropped a letter on Noir's lap. She winked at it and ran out into the hall. Quickly, she tore up the envelope and devoured the contents of the letter inside.

__

My dear Noir, 

As for your inquires about my health, be assured that I am perfectly fine. The weather has, in fact, improved much since yesterday, although that may be due to other factors in the climate. 

As for the "axe-man" he met with a… shall we say, occupational hazard? You will know what to do about the animal, please do not be so blatant about our intentions as you were last time, it is unwise.

Your new friend sounds charming, a pureblood I am pleased to note. I met her parents once at a party. 

As for my name I think we will leave that until I have the pleasure of seeing you again, I don't want anyone to realise the author of my correspondence now, do I? 

With much affection, 

Faith

Noir stared at the letter. What gave him the idea that _she_ knew how to kill unicorns? Noir closed her eyes. She didn't want to kill a unicorn! They were beautiful innocent creatures and… "Aha!" said a nasty voice inside her head. "They've already been killed to keep you alive, so why should one more make so much difference? Are you _scared?_" 

No, Noir thought. I'm not scared. But she was.

Noir always sat or stood at the back of her classes, invisible to the naked eye. She was glad Mad Eye hadn't stayed on, because then she would've been in trouble! But as it was, no one paid her any attention at all.

On the other hand, the Slytherins had stopped bullying Emily completely. Rumour had it that she controlled a terrible Ice Demon that was seven feet tall, covered with white fur and had blue eyes that looked like pale shards of sapphire. (Or so the Creevey brothers insisted anyway) Noir thought the description sounded more than a tad like her Creator.

Noir had discovered a gift for wandless magic. During one of McGonagall's classes she found that she could easily turn a vase into a swan without the use of her wand. Although it was scary to start with, Noir soon found that she merely had to _will _magic and it sprang out of the tips of her fingers. Of course, this didn't make learning potions any easier.

As the days rolled by, however, Noir was having trouble staying invisible. One or two people had glimpsed her, luckily none of the teachers… as yet. Noir definitely felt that her powers were weakening. She would have to do it soon, too soon.

So one night, when the night sky was merely a dark grey wash, Noir slipped out of the castle. The grass squelched under her feet as she made her way to the edge of the forest. Noir had only ever been into the Forbidden Forest once, as Ginny, but the memory was cold comfort at best.

Silently, her heart weighed down at thought of what she was about to do, Noir made her way into the forest, alone.

Even though she could see in the dark, the shadows seemed endless. The innocent trees twisted themselves into grotesque shapes that frightened Noir and all around her she could hear the mutterings of the forest.

The trees rustled and creaked and all around her she could hear little patterings. The Forest enveloped her in a sea of unidentifiable sounds… or were they? Noir remembered being told something about acromantula and werewolves and all kinds of… _things_.

Suddenly Noir didn't think this was such a good idea. It was dark. It was very scary. It was very dark and very, _very, _scary. A cold panic descended on Noir. Where was the path? The gnarled roots of overbearing trees showed her no route to follow. How would she get out? Which way had she come? What could she do now?

Then she heard it. A howl. It was quite near, not far behind her. Noir scrambled up. She looked around quickly, which way? Then it came again, closer, a long, drawn out howl. Noir jumped, before running, simply running. As far and as fast as she could. Branches grabbed at her, roots snatched at her feet, but all Noir could think about was running as far away from the… _thing…_ as she could.

Finally, she had to stop. Although she could feel no pain, her powers were weak and she couldn't run very far. 

Noir sat down on against a large, moss-covered tree. She gripped the vial of blood her Creator had given her to drink with the unicorn blood. She began to cry. Ice trickled down her cheeks and sobs wracked her small body. It's no good, she thought. No good at all. Even if I stay here at night I'll probably never find a unicorn! It's just no good!

"Creator…" Noir mumbled through the icy haze. Everything just tumbled out. All her fears about her Creator not loving her, all her fears about Ginny, everything seemed to roll into one big lump and stick in her throat.

Long silver blond hair fell across her cheek, followed by a warming sigh from just above her head. Creator! Noir looked up. It wasn't her Creator it was a… unicorn! Soft golden eyes surveyed her. Noir stood up cautiously, wondering what to do.

__

"Hello," the words seemed to emanate from the dazzling creature. "Hello," Noir whispered back, tears still running down her face. _"What do you want in our forest, a dead one like you?" _Noir looked away, unable to lie. "I-I need some blood," she said hoarsely. _"You need not fear, child of Death. I cannot hurt you, you do no smell of evil." _Noir was taken aback. "But I need t-t-to kill one of you!" 

The unicorn sighed again, stamping its hooves. _"Silly girl! There are many ways to give blood without dying. Ask your Master, child of Death, he knows." _Noir stared, open mouthed, as a cut appeared on the rump of the unicorn, oozing out silver liquid.

The unicorn looked her square in the eyes. _"Summon a flask with the magic of Death, girl!" _It whinnied, and stamped again, in a more threatening way. Noir blushed through her tears and summoned a jug from the castle. It was a white china jug rimmed with dark blue flowers. She held it up against the wound.

Noir didn't know how long they stood there. Time was measured by the blood trickling into the china jug. It seemed to take hours to fill; neither the Noirkarti nor the unicorn spoke until the jug was brimming over with slivery blood.

"Thankyou," Noir murmured softly, when it was done. But the unicorn did not reply. The wound closed, leaving only a sight suggestion of silver as evidence it was ever there, and the unicorn galloped off without even glancing back at Noir. 

She was alone with the jug.

Noir placed her mouth at the lip of the jug and tipped…

…And tipped….

Her tongue floundered in the silver blood, licking the sides of the china jug hungrily. Noir lost herself in the life she was drinking, as she never had before. It hadn't been fresh before, it hadn't been hot, and it hadn't been this _wonderful! _

When she had drunk it all, Noir threw the china jug backwards, smashing it into a tree. She took out her precious Creator's blood, only a little glass vial containing a dribble of life, but a thousand times more precious than the blood the unicorn had given her. She held it high and let it drip slowly onto her tongue, tasting, _savouring_, her beloved Creator.

Noir kept the small vial, tucking it back into her pocket. She wasn't afraid anymore. She felt the power of life coursing through her veins. I want to be back in Hogwarts, she thought. Now which way… WHAM! There was a flash of white light, like the whole world had exploded and then…

…She was standing in her dormitory. Now that's weird, Noir frowned. I thought you couldn't apparate in Hogwarts. Then she smiled. "No," she said to herself, "_they_ can't, but _I _can!"

"You can _apparate!?" _Emily's mouth hung open. "Yeah, cool isn't it?" Emily grinned. "Way cool, but don't you worry about getting splinched?"

Noir smiled nervously, "Not really, I mean I don't _think _so, I mean, I hadn't really thought about it actually." Emily looked worried. "Maybe you should wait until we learn next term." Noir sighed, "You're probably right, Em," she said resignedly.

From then on Noir made regular trips into the forest; the unicorn was always waiting for her in the same place. Despite Emily's warning Noir kept apparating, just for getting back to the castle, she told herself guiltily, every time she made the trip.

Months slid by and soon snow covered Hogwarts, like icing on an elaborate cake. Noir couldn't wait to get back to Malfoy Manor, or to put it another way, to get back to Mr. Malfoy. She longed to see her Creator again. 

Emily was less enthusiastic about the Christmas holidays. "I'll stay at Hogwarts, I think," she said, looking sadly at her friend. "Granduncle's so boring and you're my only friend so…" Emily wallowed in self-pity, but to achieve an end. She glanced sideways at Ginny. Would she pick up the hint?

"Why don't you come with me?" Noir said, feeling sorry for her friend. "Och, would you?" Emily said joyfully, her surprise slightly faked. Noir, for once, was too excited to spot the deception. "Sure you can come! The Creator won't mind… Well I'd better owl him just to be sure."

And Lucius, to his own surprise more than anyone else's, had said yes. So the two girls waited on the chilly platform, one cold and the other indifferent, surrounded by their holiday baggage. 

Noir had tied her short hair into a small knot at the back of her neck, but Emily's long straw-coloured hair was blowing loose in the wind, no matter how many spells she cast on it. "Are you sure your… Creator knows we're here?" Emily asked, spitting hair out of her mouth. "Oh, sure," said Noir confidently. "In fact he used to have a son who…"

But, much to Emily's annoyance, further discussion about the mysterious "Creator" was impossible owing to the arrival of a very small house-elf.

"Mistress, Miss, Snookums was sent to fetch you to the manor!" Emily's brain was put on hold. "A _manor?_ Ginny, what haven't you been _telling _me? I knew you didn't live with your family anymore, but a _manor?_" Noir smiled "Oh, didn't I mention it? The Creator's quite rich, you know."

"Obviously," Emily said, amazed at the ease with which Ginny said it. Noir remembered something. "You have to remember to always call me Noir in front of him, he's a bit touchy about it, OK?"

"Sure, Ginn…er… Noir." Emily smiled, not really believing what Ginny was saying.

"If the Mistress is ready, Snookums will take Mistress and Miss!"

"Sure thing, Snookums!" both girls chorused. Snookums lead them over to a big stone fireplace in a little brick ticket booth near Platform 9 ¾. The tiny elf took some floo powder out of a small, rather dirty, brown, dragon hide pouch. Snookums gave a pinch each to Emily and Noir, before snapping his fingers and both elf and trunks vanished.

Noir stepped into the grate. "Now you've got to say Malfoy Manor," she said, very quickly. "What?" Emily was about to ask what Ginny… no… _Noir_ meant, when the Noirkarti shouted "Malfoy Manor!" and disappeared in a roar of green flame.

Emily stepped gingerly into the fireplace. She closed her eyes, wondering what it was going to be like in a manor… "Malfoy Manor!" Emily released her floo powder and followed Noir.

It was big. It was very big. Emily thought it was like stepping suddenly into a grand museum. Everything was expensive and antique. There was a big marble staircase… and then she saw _him._

A pale, pointed, face with high, chiselled cheekbones and a long, straight noise with slightly flaring nostrils. His long silver blond hair was flowed smoothly down his back like Emily always wished hers would. He wore immaculate burgundy robes with a heavy, black, velvet cloak held with a complicated serpent clasp. He was stepping slowly, majestically, down the stairs toward the girls, leaning heavily on a silver snake-topped cane. 

But while Emily took all these details in, it was his eyes that she was drawn to. Pale grey like the morning frost, and just as cold, they were full of hidden meaning. In short: Emily fell in love with him on sight.

Lucius looked only at Noir. She ran to him with arms outstretched. "Creator! Creator, I'm home!" She yelled joyfully as she was welcomed into Lucius's embrace. "Ah, my dear Noir, it is a pleasure to see you too, but you may recall that the heating charms are not quite proof against your…" Noir let go of him, embarrassed, content just to be with him.

Lucius's eye's wandered over to Emily, who drew back. "Ah," he said softly, "You must be Emily McKinnon. I must say you look extraordinarily like your mother." Emily smiled shyly. "Did you know her Mr. Malfoy?" Lucius smiled back nostalgically. "Oh, yes. Just once, she was most- ah - entertaining."

Emily, not quite sure what he meant, laughed nervously, trying to please him. 

Lucius chuckled quietly, remembering the look of abject terror on Mrs. McKinnon's face and her pleas as they tortured her. "Oh, yes," he continued, "_most _entertaining, your mother."

Noir looked from one to the other, not sure what Lucius meant either, and not liking the look on Emily's face as she gazed at Noir's Creator. 

__


	10. Beautiful Betrayal

**Blanc et Noir**

**Disclaimer:**

Alright- Most bits belong to J.K Rowling (The Great) The delicious blond hair idea belongs to Jason Isaacs (as does the good looks) and the, oh how shall I put it… the rug belongs to Sergeanne Golon! All the other (less notable) bits belong to Runespoor Oracle the Unaccredited. 

**Author's Notes:**

This is chapter dedicated to all those people who wish they were Emily in bits of this chapter. 

All right… finally we get round to a naughty bit… but… not with who you might expect! Nasty, naughty Lucius! 

The Queen of the Night- What do I mean? Oh, he's just, well, enjoying the privileges that all handsome snobs get on FF.Net.

Hazard- Thanks so much for the wonderful review, I hope you like this chapter as much as the rest of the story. 

The Beautiful Betrayal

Emily sat on the bed, hugging her knees. Everything here was so beautiful, it felt so strange, she thought, to be bathed in luxury when you normally lived in an Edinburgh garret with a grouchy Granduncle. It made Malfoy manor seem, well, unreal. Like she'd gone to heaven and the angels hadn't realized they'd got the wrong girl.

She looked at her reflection in a mirror surrounded by gold ornamentation, a small untidy girl with straw coloured hair and far too many pimples looked back. She felt like a delicious surge of pleasure as she lay down on the soft, velvety bed, like someone who's sneaked into an expensive hotel.

Just then, there was a knock on the door and Noir walked in. "How's your room?" she asked, flopping down beside Emily. Emily grinned, "Marvellous! Now I can see why Malfoy always acted like he owned the world, a place like this certainly makes you feel like it! Speaking of Malfoys', are you two what…?"

Noir was confused. What did Emily mean? Her Creator was her life and she was his, what else _was there? Her thoughts must have been evident on her face because Emily said "You meant you're not umm… y'know!"_

"No I don't!" said Noir, starting to get frustrated. "What do you mean, Em?" Emily smiled mysteriously. "Oh, nothing… I was just wondering. Anyway when's dinner here?"

Noir fiddled with the silver tassel on the bed curtains, trying to hide her embarrassment. "Erm… Do you know something Emily? I don't actually know because I don't eat dinner… I think the Creator has dinner around nine, well, he calls it supper, but you'd have to ask one of the house-elves," Noir said, smiling apologetically.

On cue, there was a tentative knock on the door. Jeanna came in, looking flustered, her left ear ticking nervously. "Master says, girls must join him for supper in the Small Dining Room. Master says to Jeanna, "Tell the _young ladies (and here Jeanna scowled, as if to indicate that __she didn't think they were worthy of such a title) to present themselves at suppertime, he says, so Jeanna does!" Then the head house-elf turned and slammed the door shut with a loud crash that left the small diamond chandelier tinkling.  _

Noir and Emily looked at the door in astonishment, before bursting out laughing. "Did you see her face?" Emily giggled, "Tell the _young ladies!" _and here Emily did a cruel but accurate impression of the resentful elf. "I know," Noir laughed, relieved to have someone to joke with, "She _hates me! _She thinks I'm competing with her in caring for the Creator!" Then Noir had an idea. "Tell you what, let's go up to Narcissa's old room and choose some dresses for supper!"

Lucius sat at the head of the table, waiting for Noir and her friend. He sipped a glass of red wine from a fluted glass and looked down the table towards the large double doors at the other end of the room. Normally he didn't use the Small Dining Room (or the Large Dining Room, for that matter!) at all. It was depressing eating supper so formally by yourself, unless he felt like reveling in playing lord of the manor, but he hadn't felt that way for some time. Really, he thought to himself, their presence is simply an excuse to show off. Then he remembered something and took out a small crystal vial and tipped and few drips of a thick orange substance into a certain glass. 

Lucius was still chuckling to himself when the girls walked in. Noir looked like the Mediterranean variety of mermaid in tight sea-blue robes which splayed out from the knees as she walked, he remembered Narcissa wearing that one to a party one night. But, unusually, it was Emily McKinnon to whom his attention was drawn. Her blond hair was unwilling coiled up into a bun and golden ringlets hung naturally around her ears. Her old fashioned, sequined, forest-green robes brought out the sparkle in her emerald eyes. She looked nervously around as if the opulence would bite her if she took a wrong step.

Lucius set his glass down delicately and looked coldly at the two girls. Then he rose, conducting them to their seats on either side of him with a wave of his pale hands. Noir leaned towards him, her elbows knocking aside some carefully laid silver cutlery. "Um… Creator, what am I going to eat?" she asked, trying not to look at Emily. Lucius fixed her with his enigmatic grey eyes and gave her a knowing smile. "Oh, I've arranged some – ah – silvery meat for you, my dear."

"Meat?" asked Noir, confused, "what do you mean _meat?"_ Lucius took another sip of wine and left it lingering on his tongue. "My dear girl," he said nonchalantly, "what do you suppose I mean?" He looked at her, concerned. "Naturally, I am referring to rare unicorn, if you'll pardon the pun."

Noir was shocked. "You mean you _killed one!" she said dangerously, her voice rising. Emily shifted uncomfortably. Lucius stared at his creation with the air of someone explaining that two plus two does not, in fact, equal three. "Noirkarti, I want this to be quite clear, do you mean to say that __you did not kill unicorns?"_

Noir was filled with horror. "But, you said I'd know what to do… and the unicorn showed me… so I assumed that's what Mcnair was… I thought you wouldn't… they're so beautiful… Oh, now I see! You told Mcnair to… You mean you actually thought eating surplus meat would make me happy?!" Noir stood up, knocking her chair backwards. She was trembling all over. I can't believe I was _so stupid!_" Noir yelled hysterically, before storming out of the dining room.

Lucius and Emily looked at each other awkwardly. "Well…" Emily began hesitantly, wondering what she'd thought she would say after that. Lucius waved a thin hand languidly. "Oh, she's just received a shock, that's all, I'm quite sure it'll be over by morning." He smiled gently at Emily, who blushed. "In the meantime, Noir told me you have the gift of White Necromancy…

Emily felt sure she was dreaming. This handsome, rich, charming man was talking to _her! _He was actually agreeing with her opinions! After the rejection Emily habitually faced at school, nothing had prepared her for… for Lucius.

She was lost in his grey eyes, pools of molten diamond capturing her reflection in their cool depths. Her head was spinning, what had she just drunk? They must be onto the third course by now…

Lucius was rather enjoying himself. My, this young thing was naïve! She hung on his every breath, it seemed. He leaned back in his high-backed dining chair, glancing at his reflection in the silvery goblets. Ah, yes, tonight would be fun…

Emily took Lucius's hand as he gracefully pulled back her chair. "Come," he stated imperiously. Her head felt fuzzy as he led her through countless halls, enfolding her in her dark robes…

Lucius steered the short girl into a small boudoir, that he reserved for… interludes. He gently pushed the girl onto a small couch, from whence she slid gently down onto the Persian rug by the flickering fire.

Lucius slid softly down next to her. "Ah, Emily…" he said slowly…

From that moment onward, Emily stopped belonging to herself. As her lips touched Lucius's, she experienced a whirlwind of unknown sensations. Everything came alive within her. With the promise of a fulfilment which nothing could stop, her pleasure rose to such heights that she was frightened by it. She threw herself back, gasping, trying to escape from those delicate hands whose every gesture brought new springs of rapture.   

Almost without her being aware of it, he undressed he and laid her out on the soft rug. With untiring patience he would bring her back to him, each time more yielding, warm and moaning, with fever bright eyes. She struggled and surrendered in turn, but when the emotion she could not control had reached its peak, she felt utterly relaxed. It seemed to her that a sudden feeling of well-being, mingled with a delicious, throbbing excitement, encompassed her body. With her eyes closed, Emily let herself flow along a stream of voluptuousness. She did not rail against the pain, because every particle of her body was furiously calling for domination by the man sliding against her. When he took her she didn't cry out, but her green eyes opened wide and reflected the blazing fire.

They lay there, on the pillow of their long blond hair, glistening in the firelight, staring into each other's eyes. Lucius began to laugh softly. With one finger he followed the firm, curve of her youthful body. Emily breathed a long sigh of contentment.

Only Lucius noticed the door open slightly and shut very quietly. Jeanna's ears perked up and she smiled, showing the few teeth that she had kept after all her Master's beatings. 

Draco watched the elf skip down the hall, as if in triumph. He stuck his invisible head through the closed mahogany door. Emily lay on the rug, in a stupor. His father was pouring some Firewhisky from a silver decanter, still laughing quietly to himself.

He'll pay for that later, he thought. Nothing ever comes for free, I learnt that. "Oh, father!" Draco moaned, causing the hall statues to topple and smash and the paintings the swing on their hooks. "When will you _learn?"_

On the other side of the house, Noir was looking out of her window dejectedly. It was snowing, which seemed odd to her. Intricate snowflakes fell softly against the glass. She should have known better, she thought grimly. She'd been caught up in everything and hadn't remembered what Ginny knew this man was capable of.

There was a CRACK and Jeanna appeared, standing on her bed. "Jeanna is just wondering if mistress wants anything!" said the elf joyfully, with an odd glint in her bulbous eyes. Noir looked into the elf's mind… and saw the truth. There was another CRACK and Jeanna was left standing on the bed in an empty room.

Emily woke up with a headache. She glanced around: she was alone in her bedroom. She relaxed, letting the memory of last night's pleasures swirl around in her mind. It had been bliss…

Lucius drifted awake as the sun shone through a gap in his embroidered bed hangings. He felt strange, like a part of him was absent…

The sun was just beginning to rise over the wet fields as Noir looked at the Burrow. There. That was the place where she had known love of a true unforced kind. There had been no pretence. Noir hung back for a second, before striding purposefully towards Ginny's home. _Her home._             


	11. Love A Simple Word

**Blanc et Noir**

**Disclaimer:**

There is a disclaimer. This means that I loudly declaim that I do not own this and am writing it purely because I love Harry Potter. (Well… Lucius actually, does anyone actually _love Harry Potter?!) _

**Author's Notes:**

This is a chapter about Lucius and Draco. Their relationship and Lucius's past. I'm afraid we are perilously close to the end (but not quite there, don't worry!) of this fan fiction- so I want to say thank-you to everyone for their input and support.  

Love – A Simple Word

Mrs. Molly Weasley was spelling the dishes._ She brushed some errant red hair out of her eyes as she leaned against the old, wooden bench. She glanced at the clock. Arthur was still at work – he wouldn't be home until breakfast. She'd thought that all these nightshifts would stop when her husband had been promoted to Muggle Liaison with the Office of Misinformation. Molly sighed, turning away from the clock. She didn't like to look at it nowadays. Her head just turned towards it from force of habit._

Ginny…

Molly gave the clock another surreptitious glance. It was so strange it frightened her. When someone died, their clock hand disappeared. Ginny's hand had been burnt down to a stump, _but it kept ticking!_

Molly turned away again, shutting her eyes, trying to shut out her thoughts…

_Where was Ginny?_

_Was she alive?_

_Was she hurt?_

_Was she starved?_

_What if something had happened to her…? What if… what if… what if…?!_

Molly heard the clock tick. Was Arthur home? She looked at the clock again. Ginny was at home. _Ginny was at home. GINNY WAS AT HOME!_

She swung the shutters open. Dazzling morning sun poured into the kitchen,   Molly's eyes searched for the child she'd lost. 

There she was. In a flimsy silk nighty that was hanging off her pale shoulders, Ginny looked like a ghost. In fact, Mrs. Weasley wasn't even certain if she was real, or just a fragment of her troubled imagination.

Noir looked at the short, plump woman holding the shutters open. One word resounded through her brain.

_MUM…_

She felt a deep connection with this woman. Not the all encompassing warmth she felt near the Creat – Lucius – but a forgotten memory stirred up bubbles of memories that had been locked away in the core of her being. 

_"Oh, Ginny! I love you so much!"_

_"Have a wonderful time at Hogwarts dear!"_

_"Ginny, could you help with the cutlery? There's a dear,"_

"Mum! I'm back!"

A shiver ran through Molly's body, jolting her into action. She ran out of the house, almost slipping over in the mud. "Ginny! Merlin's Beard! We were so worried! What happened? Your father couldn't remember!" As Molly's arms reached around her precious child, all her words were cut off by the opening of flood gates of emotion.

Noir was in shock. Mum was hugging her. She'd always been the one the hug the Crea – Lucius – _never the other way round. The woman called Mum didn't seem to mind that she was cold. All she cared about was hugging her._

As Noir was encased in Molly's bear-hug, a deep sense of belonging suffused her soul. _This was where she belonged._

Lucius yawned, stretching out on his bed. Ah… So that was what he'd been missing! It was such a pity, he thought, that the Noirkarti couldn't service him like that. Oh well, wealth was a powerful aphrodisiac… he'd never had any trouble on that score!

He looked at the clock. Twelve thirty, hmm… better get up. He sat up, one arm loosely around the bed post, and slipped his feet into his fox fur slippers. Then he stood up and grabbed the dressing-gown immaculately laid out on a burgundy chaise lounge. He smiled into his full-length mirror as he tied the gown's cord. Smiling quietly, Lucius turned – and his heart jumped into his throat.

Floating there, with his arms crossed and a furious expression on his face… was Draco. Lucius involuntarily drew back from the specter. "Leave!" Lucius spat angrily, his eyes wide with shock. The specter said nothing. Lucius reached for his wand to make the horrid creature go away, when he saw that it was twirling _his _wand in it's fingers and scowling menacingly.

"Why did you do it?" Draco asked calmly. Lucius found himself up against the chaise lounge, his hands shaking. _"What do you mean?" he hissed dangerously, furious with himself for letting this mere shadow make him lose his composure. Then Draco snapped and the mirror shattered, scattering glass all over the expensive carpet "WHAT DO YOU THINK I MEAN, YOU BASTARD?! __GINNY! Haven't you realized what you've done? You've broken the connection! She will __die! For once in your whole miserable life, could you think of someone else? SHE _LOVES_ YOU!"  _

But Lucius had managed to regain his tongue. "Since when were _you_ a _sparkling example of selflessness?" he spat back viciously. Before Draco could stop himself, he replied, "Since Ginny, you _bastard_!"   _

"What?" Lucius fell back into chaise lounge, which tipped over with a thud and Lucius found himself sprawled on the floor, his clothes in disarray. Draco floated over to his father and held him down. Lucius struggled, but the poltergeist's grip was one of iron. Draco leaned forward, so that his face was inches from Lucius's nose.

"I loved her," Draco said quietly, his eyes flashing, "she showed me compassion and courage and how to love." Lucius held his breath as the thing that looked like his dead son moved closer, so that their noses were virtually touching. "On the night before I died, I was going to ask her to marry me." Lucius opened his mouth to protest, but found that his mouth was somehow frozen shut. "You won't believe what it _cost me to pretend that nothing had happened." An angrier tone crept into Draco's voice. "And she loves _you!_ Of all the selfish bastards in the world, she's in love with __you, and you know something?" Lucius shook his head mutely. "It seems you just brought her back just to kill her! __Well are you happy now?! Tell me you're happy!"_

Lucius's lip curled. How dare his so-called son lecture him! His eyes bored into Draco's, grey lamps of fury. Draco turned away, tears spilling out of his own grey eyes. The curtains were wrenched of their poles and the widows smashed, letting in the whiplash winds and pouring sleet into the room.

"I HATE YOU!" Draco yelled, and all the priceless antiques crashed down around Lucius, shattering all over the floor. He let go of his father, who didn't move. 

Those three words echoed around Lucius's head.

_I HATE YOU!_

He remembered how many times they'd been framed in _his_ mouth. "I hate you," he'd wanted to say it so many times, when that wickedly sharp cane had been driven into his skin. He'd mumbled it through the tears afterwards. He'd mouthed it as he drove his father's cane into his dead body… Would Draco have…?

What had he become? 

Tears trickled out from under his tightly closed eyelids. 

All he'd tried so hard not to. What a hypocrite he'd been, when the truth was etched in his dead son's face. Draco… He wanted to say, Draco, I'm sorry! But the words wouldn't come. "Lucius…" His father's last two syllables, was that what he'd wanted to say, that he was sorry? And he had… he had…

Draco looked down at his father. Without his finery, his famous composure, surrounded in debris, he looked extremely sad. 

Then Lucius became aware of the freezing cold snow and the howling winds. He tried to crawl towards warmth, but shards of glass stuck into his skin, and he fell back, trying to pull the glass out of his delicate hands. Blood soaked into his designer dressing-gown, gushing out of his hands. 

Then… his hands went rigid. The ice swirled around him as he spiraled down into unconsciousness.

Noir was sitting next to Ron, who was talking excitedly. "It's so great to have you back Ginny, even if you are… y'know."

Noir smiled, "Yeah, Mum was just talking to Dumbledore on the floo, and he said he'd been talking to Silva, that's what they call the Unicorn Mother, about me, so everything should be fine." Noir picked up Martha's bent copper spoon and popped some mushy fruit into her mouth, although she did turn away when the baby started making eating noises.

Arthur Weasley walked into the kitchen. He grinned at his daughter as he walked past, ruffling her red hair. Noir ginned back and turned back to feed Martha another spoon when – "ARRGHHH!"

The Creator! He was in trouble! She had to… She had to… No! She wouldn't go to him! Her home was here! But… if the Cre – Lucius – died, she wouldn't need a home.

She had to. There was no choice. Noir stood up. "Ron, Can you finish feeding Martha?" 

"Sure Gin, but where are you going?" Noir swallowed, "J-just up to my room," Ron narrowed his eyes, but didn't comment. Who knew what Noirkarti did?

Noir walked as quietly as she could over the creaky floorboards. "Mum?" she called up the stairs. "I'm just going for a walk!" 

Molly rushed down the stairs. "Oh no you don't! I wouldn't want you to-"

"I'm undead Mum, I'll be fine. There's just something I have to do." Seeing that her mother was just about to loudly erupt, the Noirkarti disapparated with a CRACK!

Jeanna looked down at her master. He lay still. Master couldn't die! He couldn't! Because then… then… there would be no more Malfoys! And with no more Malfoys… there would be no need for… she would have to have… _clothes!_

They say when you're about to die your life flashes before your eyes…

_"What are muggles?" Lucius asked, "Well young man…"_

_"No father…PLEASE!"_

_"Please wake up Mother! Wake up!"_

_"Another Malfoy, eh," Lucius nodded, "well you probably know you'll be in SLYTHERIN!"_

_"Lucius…" Narcissa breathed softly, the smile not reaching her eyes…_

_"Lucius…" His father was lying still. He picked up the cane…_

_Lord Voldemort smiled, sending shivers down his spine…_

_The little girl lay still, her eyes staring at him, wide and unseeing…_

_"Receive my mark!"_

_"A Necromancer? To think I killed the McKinnons for nothing!" Voldemort licked his lips, "When I had a source of eternal life right here… You will pay for your concealment…" _

_Lucius's face split into a grin. "Let's call him Draco,"_

_"What do you mean he's gone?" Lucius looked up and saw fireworks in the distance…_

_"I was bewitched…" _

_"Father! I got my letter!"_

_"You shall go now; you shall not harm Harry Potter!"_

_"Lucius my slippery friend…"_

_"GET THE PROPHCY!"_

_"You are here to answer for crimes committed…"_

_"They're dead?"_

_Lucius gripped her cold skin. "Don't leave me," Noir looked down at him. "I never will."___

_"I HATE YOU!"_

"Creator!" Someone was calling him… he could hear a voice calling him back… No, he would stay here, it was warm. It was cold out there and there were nasty people…

"I'm afraid there's nothing I can do, Miss – er – I'm didn't catch your name…"

Noir stood in Narcissa's old bedroom, completely shocked that this was happening. She had just found her family… No! He couldn't die… Noir stared at the unfortunate Healer. "Healer Peake, you _will heal the Creator!"  Her fingers closed around his flabby neck. __"He… Can't… Die!" Noir shrieked._

She turned, frustrated, towards the figure on the bed. Lucius lay there, his eyes closed. His bleeding hands had been bound up with bandages that had been treated with healing potions. His hair had been tied up with a ribbon and Jeanna, along with a crowd of other desperate elves, was doing all she could in the way of heating charms.

Noir looked at his face. His face reminded her of someone's… Noir's knees began shaking when she realized who it was: her. His face was an unhealthy, pasty, bluish colour. He lay still and as she stared at him Noir could feel her own life draining away.

"No, you're right, he can't die," 

Noir turned, and found herself face to face with the girl who she had thought of as her friend. "Even if the bastard deserves it," Emily added. "What do you mean?" Noir asked suspiciously. "I was drunk, Ginny, I'm so sorry. I thought you weren't together."

Then Emily walked over to the bed. The crowd of house-elves parted reverentially. "You don't deserve this," she whispered quietly as she bent over Lucius. She spread her hands out over his chest…

_"Lucius!" his mother was calling him. "I'm coming mother!" he ran towards the figure in cream coloured robes, his eyes intent on her kindly hazel eyes. "I missed you so much!" he cried, gripping her creamy velvet skirts tightly. She picked him up, enfolding him in her velvety softness. "Just a bit longer darling, somebody wants you…"    _

 Lucius opened his eyes. Faces were crowded all around him. They were all silent, staring at him.

"Lucky bastard," someone muttered.

         

                          __

 _  _

    __


	12. Aspects of Love

**Blanc et Noir**

**Disclaimer:**

I do not own this – no one on fan fiction owns anything we write here!

**Author's Notes:**

Oh my God. I'm writing another chapter. Why, I don't know, could it be simple relief at no more exams?! This is it ladies and gentlemen, the final chapter I have finally got around to writing. Unless, of course, a sequel comes into my head.

Aspects of Love

Lucius looked blearily around the room. Bright colours swirled around. He focused on a pair of angry green eyes. "You really are pathetic," Emily sneered. "You didn't think that _last night_," a gasping voice that must've been his, replied. A hand connected painfully with his face. "I drain my energy healing you and then you remind me of how you practically raped my with that orange stuff marked _"Potent Exciter,"_ that I found in your liqueur cabinet!? I DON'T WHY I DON'T JUST-"

A cold but calm hand laid itself on Emily's shoulder. "Ssh. Emily, you just saved _me. _Not just this Creator of mine." Noir seemed to glide towards Lucius. "What happened, Creator?" she said, sitting down beside him and pulling the coverlets up around his chin. "Draco, he…" Lucius scrunched his eyes up, treacherous tears refusing to remain unshed. "He… I… I did it. Killed… killed everything always, forever… No music… ugly, bloody, wanted… wanted love, got… always got death… lonely."

Noir and Emily and the amazed Healer stared down at him. "Are we in _'A Christmas Carol' _or what?" Emily scoffed. She was silenced with a glance from Noir. "Creator," Noir said slowly, drawing out the syllables out, "do you love me?"

Lucius thought about this carefully. In his current state his emotions ruled with all the cruelty of a vengeful being that had been imprisoned for too long. The tears fell quicker and his shaking fists gripped the blankets tighter. Then everything seemed to crystallize. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes! YES! "Yes," the word escaped softly from trembling lips. Maroon eyes locked with washed out grey ones.

"Just a sec!" Emily squealed, before scrambling out of the room, the door crashing behind her. Lucius and Noir stared at the swinging door. Then Noir said "Well, Creator, then I guess I'll have to forgive you, even if the world – especially my family! – can't."

* * *

Emily searched frantically for her pack; she knew it was here somewhere! Where had those bloody elves stuffed it away?! She snatched the coverlets from the bed and dropped to the ground to look under it. There. She swiped at it with her hand and eventually managed to hook it with her index finger and pulled it into the light.

Smelly underwear and socks greeted her as she unzipped the top. She tossed them aside and delved into her pack. She found a hard rectangle in the softness of a jumper. Her holiday reading: _'Myths of the Necromantic by Nihlius Blackly,' _Emily flipped to chapter 12, 'Noirkarti Creation,' and scanned the relevant passage.

_"In the 'Necromantic Chronicle,' the Benedictine monk, Brother Henri, wrote of the activities of a notorious wizard in his home town of __Darnes__. "Strange things did happene; terrible sounds did emerge from the evil doer's house. Young Marie, dead of the pox, was taken from her grave, where she had been buried in God's grace." _

_Marie emerged from his house at evensong. So cold and bluish was she. Alive, raised by the Devil's magic!"_

_Here we have proof that the unfortunate muggle, Marie, was a Noirkarti as the author states that she was "Bluish" rather than the green-grey__ colours__ a zombie would turn. In a later scroll Brother Henri provides evidence of a transformation experts are hardy able to credit. This is the only proof of such an occurrence as the Noirkarti Creation Act was passed by the High Council barely ten years later._

_"Marie was seen living with the Devil's Servant. They would create strange and evil charms, cursing our town. But one morn I did see the Damned One and his Servant kiss by __St Jerome__'s lake. There then occurred a wondrous thing. Marie became as she had been. Not the Damned Creature the Devil's Magic had mad her, but she did appear as she had been…" _

It takes love, Emily thought. It takes love to make them as they were. That's what ancient magic's about! A kiss… Emily was overjoyed for her friend – even if a tiny bit of her brain was thinking about the conclusive proof of Blackly's Theory, that her own book would provide.

Mr. Malfoy and Noir were talking quietly when she skidded into the room. Panting, she wheezed "Kiss her!" at Lucius, who raised his eyebrows. "Just do it!" Emily screeched. Noir was just about to ask her friend why she wanted to see them kiss, when soft lips enclosed hers. Lucius regretted it immediately. Were his lips frozen on?!

Noir, on the other hand, was in ecstasy. It seemed to her that the Creator was merging with her, his life flowing into her as it never had before. She was wrapped up in a ball of bliss.

Emily watched, rapt, as Noir's face regained a healthy glow, her eyes opened bright and hazel, her hair shimmering red and a pink lustre crept into her busy lips.

A dark aura surrounded Lucius and Noir, swirling and concentrating in Lucius's fingertips, which clung to Noirs surrounding arms.

The connection broke and it was Ginny who pulled away. "Hello Malfoy," she said stonily. "Noir?" he quivered. "No, Mr. Malfoy, you healed me… fully."

"But…"

"I am no longer your slave."

"Please understand, my dear…"

"Your dear?! I have ceased to become _your_ dear or _your_ anything else!"

"But I thought…"

"I can't imagine you think anything worth hearing. Mr. Malfoy, good day."

There was a brief CRACK and Virginia Weasley was gone. Emily and Lucius stared at each other in shock. "Well… I don't think you need me anymore!" Healer Peake laughed nervously.

* * *


	13. Epilogue

**Blanc et Noir**

**Disclaimer:**

There is a disclaimer. This means that I loudly declaim that I do not own this.

**Author's Notes:**

No, it doesn't end there. I just LOVE torturing! It ends here. Thank you to all my wonderful reviewers who offered me their comments. Special thanks to Trixie-Guest and DeceptiveKindness who gave me a huge guilt-trip. To Lucius and Ginny!

Epilogue

Ginny was sitting outside in the warm grass. It had been three years since the events at Malfoy Manor. She had graduated and managed to become Head Girl, to her parents delight – second in the family! She still wasn't nearly normal, but was anybody really?

Emily had become famous for her work on Noirkarti. Her book, _'The Truth about Noirkarti,'_ gained her much acclaim and all the book signings she could possibly want. She'd given Ginny the first copy.

Sometimes Ginny would take it off the shelf and remember what happened to her, as she did now.

_"…Noirkarti rely on their Creator for much more than just life. They are their__ fulfilment__, and are content when simply in their presence…" _

"Virginia," a soft voice whispered. Ginny didn't turn round. "Lucius," she answered simply. He didn't say anything. She stood up, leaving the book in the dry grass. Two hands gently touched her shoulders. Then, realizing they had permission, the gloved hands encircled her waist.

Not a word was said. But Lucius knew she'd forgiven him. Her parents might not react as favourably, but, right now, all that mattered was Ginny.

They walked off together in the golden afternoon, leaving the book among the wildflowers, its pages turning gently in the breeze.

* * *


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